The BSC, Vampire Slayers
by GilraenV
Summary: Whether they're sitting for the neighborhood kids or slaying vampires, the BSC will always be best friends! Completed. PARODY.
1. Mallory

_ Author's Note: This is a Buffy/BSC cross-over taking place about two years after "Chosen." In terms of the BSC timeline, it takes place around book 60 (before Dawn leaves for the first time), except catapulted forward in time.  
Considering these are the girls who started 8th grade about 200 times, I figure that's okay._

_  
Mallory, Slayer of the Vampyres_

By Mallory Pike

_It was the blackest part of night. The graveyard was covered in darknes. Dark with an inky blackness that blanketed it in darkest gloom. A low fog rolled over the land, and lo, the graves were at their scariest and their most mysterious._

_Among the tombs stood Mallory Pike, slayer of the vampyres. Wooden stake in hand she stood poised over that most foul fiend of the night: a vampyre. "I shall send you back to Hell, most foul fiend of the night!" she cried, and drove the stake through his dry, shriveled heart. Once again, the slayer was victorious._

I, Mallory Pike, don't look much like a vampire slayer. After all, I'm your average 11 year old girl. I have red hair, which I hate, and glasses, which I also hate, and braces, which I hate most of all. I don't have long dancers legs, like my best friend Jessi, and I'm not even athletic like my other friend Kristy (although I did make the Stoneybrook Middle School archery team). In fact, I've always hated sports – I even sprained my ankle on purpose to get out of the school field day

Instead, I read lots of books, especially ones about horses, and I write whenever I can. My life's ambition is to be a children's book author and to write and illustrate my own books! _Mallory, Slayer of the Vampyres_ isn't a children's book though; it's way too dark and scary for kids. That's okay. I feel a writer should be versatile. (Isn't that a cool word? It means "flexible." I learned it from my friend Claudia's sister. She's a real life genius!)

If I'm not reading or writing, chances are you can find me baby-sitting. I've always been responsible for my age because I'm the oldest of eight (yes, that's right, _eight_) children. A lot of people think my parents are freaky ultra-religious Catholics or something, but they're totally not. They just love kids, like me! Anyway, I baby-sit so much I'm even in a special baby-sitters club, but I'll tell you more about that in a little while.

First, I want to talk about the day everything changed for me. I didn't realize it yet, but this was the day I became something other than normal, boring, glasses-wearing Mallory Pike.

I guess I should start my story on the last Monday of the school year. I was at our final archery meet and I was dibbly excited. (Before I continue, you should know that dibbly is a word my friends and I made up. It's short for incredibly. We make up lots of words. Dibble, distant, and chilly all mean "cool," and stale is the opposite of "chilly.") Anyway, I'm not the best archer on the team, but I always have fun, even when I lose.

Today's meet took place at my very own Stoneybrook Middle School and we were competing against Stoneybrook Academy, which is a private school. In the field behind the school, hay targets were set up about ten feet away from where we were standing. As usual, some of the stupid boys like Alan Gray were watching us and shouting things like "Go back to the Ren Faire, geek." I don't know what that means. I can only assume they're jealous of my sort-of-boyfriend Ben Hobart. Mom says boys always tease you when they like you.

Usually, I'm lucky to hit the target, but today when I picked up my bow something felt different. I pulled back my bow farther than ever before, and let the arrow fly. Not only did I hit the target right in the center, I hit it so hard the arrow went straight through the hay! I was lucky no one was standing behind it, because they'd probably arrest me for assault or something. Creepy!

Anyway, everyone was impressed and I won first prize (although they wouldn't let me shoot anymore). I didn't have time to think about it, though, because it was almost 5:30 PM and I was going to be late for our Baby-Sitters Club meeting! I rode my bike all the way to Claudia's and fortunately I was super fast that day so I made it just as my watch hit 5:30. Thank God, because Kristy, our president, _hates _it when we're late. She even makes a point of keeping super sharp pencils that she can throw at us when she doesn't think we've hustled enough. And Kristy plays softball so those things _hurt_.

If I'm going to tell you about the Baby-Sitters Club I should start with Kristy, because without her, there wouldn't even be a club! Kristy had the idea one day when neither her nor her two older brothers could baby-sit her younger brother, David Michael. Kristy watched her mother call number after number with no luck. Then Kristy had a Great Idea (Kristy gets Great Ideas all the time; it's dibbly distant). What if, she thought, you could call _one _number and reach a _lots_ of sitters? And so, the Baby-Sitters Club was born. We meet every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from 5:30-6:00. Parents call one number and they get seven experienced sitters who can sit for them. Needless to say, we're very popular.

Kristy, of course, is our president. She's perfect for the job because she likes to tell people what to do. She sits in a director's chair during meetings and puts a pencil behind her ear (she never throws that one). As I said earlier, Kristy is an athlete. She even couches a softball team for all the kids in the neighborhood who are too young or shy to play in the official tee ball league.

The last thing you should know about Kristy is that she's rich. Well, _she's _not rich; her stepfather Watson Brewer is. When Kristy's mom married Watson she moved from the upper middle class side of town where we all live to the rich side of town where Watson lives. It was quite an adjustment. Now, though, she gets along great with her stepfamily and is even her stepsiblings' favorite baby-sitter.

I had made it to the meeting so quickly that the only other people there when I arrived were Stacey and Claudia. Stacey and Claudia are best friends, and have been ever since Stacey's first day at Stoneybrook Middle School when she and Claudia were wearing the exact same (_extremely_ trendy) outfit. Stacey is very sophisticated. She perms her hair, and she wears these extra-chilly outfits. That day, for instance, she was wearing a hot pink spandex miniskirt and a tight baby-tee that had 'New York is for Lovers" written on it in pink sequins. I'm always especially jealous of Stacey's earrings because I haven't been allowed to get my ears pierced yet. In one ear, she had a pair of lips that looked like they were about to kiss someone and in the other she had a tube of lipstick. Isn't that dibble?

As you can tell, Stacey is really into fashion, but guess what? She's also good at math! That's why she's our club treasurer.

The reason Stacey is so fashionable is that she's from New York City, which, as she always tells us, is the best city in the world. Naturally, this has taught her a lot of things that those of us from Stoneybrook haven't learned yet, like how to pronounce "filet mignon" and all kinds of things about boys. She's great to have around.

Stacey moved from New York to Stoneybrook after she was diagnosed with diabetes and her parents decided she should start over at a new school. This is really hard for Stacey because it means she can't eat any sweets and has to give herself shots several times a day (ick!). She moved back to New York for a while, but when her parents divorced and her mom decided to come back to Stoneybrook Stacey came back with her. We're all really glad she did, even though I know her parents' divorce was hard for her.

Claudia, Stacey's best friend, is totally fashionable too, but in a different way. Claudia is an _artist_. You can tell that from the way she dresses. While Stacey buys her clothes in the most super-fashionable shops (like Forever 21; I can't wait to be allowed to shop there someday), Claudia makes most of her clothes herself, or buys them at thrift stores. Today, for instance, Claudia was celebrating the upcoming vacation by dressing in a summer themed outfit. She couldn't wear a real bikini to school because of school dress codes (stale), so instead she worse a tight, flesh colored jump suit to make it look like she was naked and she painted a bikini on top of it! It was really skimpy, although not as skimpy as the one Stacey wore to Sea City last year, and since it didn't have to go in the water she had glued feathers, sequins, and summer memorabilia like watermelon seeds from last year's spitting contest all over it. On her feet she wore super colorful flip flops, and to make them more summery she glued entrance ticket stubs from the local pool all over them. On her head, she wore one of those baby-sized plastic flotation rings as a hat. On anyone else it would have looked weird, but on Claudia it was way cool.

Claudia was always the first one at BSC meetings, because we have the meetings at Claudia's house. She's the only one of us who has her own phone line. She's also a junk food addict so she always has plenty of snacks on hand. However, her parents are very strict so she has to hide them all over her room along with her Nancy Drew mysteries (her parents think she should be reading "quality" literature). Even though she eats lots of junk food, her skin is flawless.

Claudia may be a brilliant artist, but she has trouble in school. In fact, for a while we even thought that she might be special. But she got tested and everything, and she's totally okay. The hardest thing for Claudia is that, as I said earlier, her sister Janine is a genius. She always feels like she'll never be as successful as Janine in their parents' eyes.

Oh, and you should know that Claudia's Japanese. Her last name is Kishi and she has the beautiful almond shaped eyes.

The next two people to arrive at the meeting were Mary Anne and Dawn. They usually come together, because not only are they best friends, they're stepsisters! It was a dibbly romantic story – someday I may even have to write a book about it. Mary Anne's father Richard and Dawn's mother Sharon were high school sweethearts. But Sharon's family was wealthy and Richard's family wasn't, so her parents didn't approve. They broke up to go away to college and married other people – Richard stayed in Stoneybrook and had Mary Anne and Sharon moved to sunny California and had Dawn.

Isn't that the most tragic story ever? Fortunately, it has a happy ending. Mary Anne's mother died when she was just a baby and Dawn's parents got divorced. Sharon moved back to Stoneybrook, and voila! Love at first sight – again!

Now Mary Anne, Dawn, and their parents live in this distant old farm house that even has a secret passage. My brother Nicky likes to hide there sometimes when he needs to get away from the craziness of our family. Dawn is really into ghost stories, so having her very own secret passage is perfect for her.

Dawn grew up in California and is a classic California girl. She has loooooong blonde hair that's so light it's almost white and ocean blue eyes. She's also a total health food nut. She won't touch Claudia's junk food and half the time she won't eat meat either because she thinks it's gross, unhealthy, and exploitative. Dawn's really passionate about her causes and is always willing to share with the rest of us how we can be better people, which is just so dibble of her.

Even though they're sisters Mary Anne and Dawn are very different. Mary Anne is really shy and cries at the drop of a hat. Her dad is really strict, even stricter than my parents. Fortunately for Mary Anne he's loosened up some since marrying Shannon, because now Mary Anne is allowed to wear her hair short instead of long and in braids and she even has a boyfriend, Logan. Mary Anne is the first of us to have a real boyfriend, and she and Logan are just the best couple. Not only does he look like the totally dreamy actor Cam Geary, he's an associate member of the club (we call him when we're too busy to take on a job ourselves). A boy who baby-sits – we should all be so lucky!

Jessi was the last of us to arrive that day. She came running in right at the stroke of 5:30 and heaved a sigh of relief when she made it on time. None of us likes to disappoint Kristy, or risk a pencil in the eye. I've said a little about Jessi earlier. She's _my _best friend, and we have lots in common. We read the same books, both think our parents treat us like babies, and both have to wear glasses (although Jessi is lucky; hers are only for reading). But there are two ways we're not alike. First, Jessi is an incredible ballet dancer. She has legs almost as long as Dawn's hair and is really graceful. Second, Jessi is black. But she never lets that stop her! She's even been the lead in all of her ballet school's recitals.

Jessi and I are junior members of the BSC and that means we can only take jobs in the afternoon and on weekends. Since we're only 11 (all the other club members are 13) are parents won't let us sit at night yet, unless we're sitting for our own families.

That day, the BSC meeting started as usual. Claudia opened the window and pulled a bag of marshmallows down from the ledge. She tossed it to me and then grabbed some Hershey's bars from under her bed. The ants had gotten into them and she had to throw them away, which is too bad because Hershey's are my favorite. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"You know, the Native Americans often subsisted for days on ants alone. They're _so _much healthier than that chocolate," she said. I noticed she didn't pop an ant into her mouth; maybe she considered it "taking a life.". I opened the marshmallow bag, but I must have pulled too hard. It burst open and marshmallows went flying around the room. A lot of them landed on Claudia's latest art project.

"No problem!" she said. I just had the most dibble idea for a Candyland outfit!" She was telling us about her idea when the phone rang. Kristy answered.

"Hello, Baby-Sitter's Club. Thursday night? Just a moment Dr. Johannsen." When we get a call we take the information, discuss who can take the job, and then call our clients back.

"The Johanssen's need a sitter for Thursday night at 7PM," she barked. " Who's free?" Mary Anne, who's our secretary since she has really pretty handwriting, checked her appointment book.

"Well, I'm baby-sitting at the Pikes and you have a Crusher's practice, Kristy, and Claudia has an art class. That leaves Stacey and Dawn." Dawn let Stacey take it; she and Charlotte Johannsen are almost like sisters.

As you can see, scheduling sitting jobs is very complicated. But Mary Anne hasn't made a mistake once!

While we waited for the phone to ring again I told my friends that I had won first place at the archery tournament. They were so pleased their jaws dropped wide open and they couldn't even speak for a minute. The great thing about the BSC is that we're always able to share our successes and failures with each other. The phone range again, and this time Claudia jumped for it (we all like to answer the phone.)

"Hello. Baby-sitters Club." She was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, sir. _What _did you say your daughter's name was? She likes what?" Claudia took his information, and then hung up.

"Mr. Wells just moved into the neighborhood and needs a sitter for his four year old daughter Illyria tomorrow afternoon. He says he heard one of us liked archery and he thinks his daughter would really enjoy a lesson."

It wasn't a surprise, really. The Baby-Sitters Club has such a great reputation that even the newest parents in town were likely to have heard all kinds of things about us. I was free so I volunteered to take the job immediately. Everyone else looked a bit skeptical at the thought of a four year old named Illyria who liked archery, but they weren't writers and didn't have my imagination. I bet Illyria would be just like the hero of a story. Maybe I could even write it myself. I couldn't wait to sit for my new charge.

The next day after school I looked at the piece of paper where I had written down Mr. Wells' address. Just like I had thought it said 461 Van Gliesen St.. I looked up at the house in front of me. I knew this job would be perfect fodder for a book, and I was right already. Mr. Wells and his daughter had moved into the old deserted house on the edge of town. There might even be real, live ghosts. Dawn would be so jealous.

I walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. Inside, I heard scuffling and a couple of bangs. Boy, Illyria must be a handful. Maybe I could introduce her to Jackie Rodowsky (he's another of our clients; we call him the "Walking Disaster" because he's so accident prone). Finally, the door swung open and a man appeared. He was short and ordinary looking, with brown hair and eyes. But he was wearing a cape! That was so cool! I was a bit nervous that I'd look like a geek, but I managed to say:

"Mr. Wells, I presume?" I read that in a book once and it always seemed like the perfect thing to say when you wanted to impress someone.

"Yes. Wells. Andrew Wells. Come in, my dear. Come in." Mr. Wells had such a deep and dramatic voice. I wondered if maybe Cam Geary would agree to play him in the film version of my novel. He swung his cape around him and walked into the house. I followed. Here, though, I stopped being nervous and excited and started being scared.

The house was empty. There wasn't any furniture at all, and it looked as deserted on the inside as it did on the outside. I imagined myself kidnapped or murdered and the BSC and my family distraught. I wondered if I'd get my picture on a milk carton.

"Mr. Wells," I asked, my voice trembling, "Can I meet Illyria now?"

"Of course, my dear, of course." He clapped his hands together, and called "Illyria, you can come out now." Were they playing hide and seek? This was certainly a perfect house for it.

A woman emerged from the shadows. I was so surprised I must have jumped three feet in the air. She was _blue_. Well, not really blue, but her brown hair had blue streaks and the coloring extended to her forehead as well. And she wore a tight, red, leather jump suit. She was definitely _not _four years old.

"This, my dear Mallory, is Illyria," Mr. Wells said, raising his hand towards her. I tried to run for the door, but Illyria had beat me to it and slammed it shut. Instinctively, I tried to get past her. My hands and feet were moving in ways I hadn't thought I knew. And I was _strong._ I kicked her in the chest, and she recoiled.

But Illyria was stronger. She grabbed hold of me and I kept struggling, but couldn't break free.

"You are not yet at the peak of your power, Mallory," Mr. Wells said in a deep voice, "but you have confirmed that you do indeed have potential." He stopped, and took a step or two nearer to me before continuing. "Mallory, you are a slayer. A slayer of the vampyres."


	2. Jessi

Ch. 2: Jessi

_Dear Keisha,_

_Guess what? I'm going to England! I'm super-excited. Maybe I'll even go get to see a ballet in Covent Gardens! And you know what's even better? I'm going with the entire Baby-Sitters Club! I'll make sure to send you a postcard! _

_Love,_

_Jessi_

I was excited to go to England, but not for the reason I told my cousin Keisha (although I'd love to see a ballet at Covent Gardens – I hope to dance there myself some day.) I'll explain that in a bit, but first I have to back and tell you what happened after Mal returned from that "sitting job" with the Wells.

As soon as Mallory got home that night she called me and told me she had something dibbly exciting to tell me, but it had to wait until the emergency BSC/Pike family meeting she was calling for the next night. Mal has what my mom calls an "overactive imagination" so I wasn't really surprised to get her call. I figured she'd break down and tell me all about her newest story idea or imaginary mystery or whatever in a few minutes like she normally did.

But she didn't. She just kept talking about how excited she was and using words like "chilly" and "distant" over and over again, which is a bit much even for Mal. Truth to tell, I was getting a bit annoyed. With all my ballet classes, school, homework, and baby-sitting, I had things to do besides listen to Mal babble about something she wouldn't explain. Even if she is my best (white) friend.

I got a bit more curious when I realized she was serious about the emergency BSC/Pike family meeting. But I didn't exactly lose sleep wondering what was going on.

The next day after dinner (it was the only time we were all free), I parked my bike outside the Pike family house. I was expecting it to be chaotic. After all, Mallory has seven younger brothers and sisters and they aren't exactly quiet. But this was way weirder than usual.

In one corner, stood a youngish, smallish man wearing an honest-to-god cape. A cape! He was also carrying a crystal ball. I hoped that was just a Claudia-style fashion accessory, but to be honest, it made me kind of nervous.

Speaking of Claud, she had latched onto the Cape Man and was begging to know where he bought his outfit. I wasn't surprised; her orange tuxedo looked downright subdued in comparison.

Stacey, on the other hand, had attached herself to the other stranger in the room; a thin, graceful woman with _blue _hair and skin, a leather jumpsuit, and a _crossbow_. Huh? Was she one of Mal's archery buddies? She didn't _look _like a SMS student.

"Oh my God," Stacey was gasping as she pointed at the woman's clothing. "Sam Thomas would just _love _that on me. You should hear what he says about girls and leather." Sam Thomas is Kristy's older brother. Stacey has been in love with him off and on since she moved to Stoneybrook. He's fifteen and goes to the local high school, but Stacey's so sophisticated that they seem like they're the same age.

Anyway, she said something else, but I didn't catch it. I was distracted by two of Mallory's sisters (Claire, who's five, and Vanessa, who's nine) who were also mobbing the blue woman.

Claire was chanting "Bluey, silly billy goo goo," over and over again and rolling around on the floor. The Pikes say that Claire is in a "silly stage," which means she tends to make up words. I'm sure it's an early sign that some day she'll be a totally creative writer like Mallory.

The blue woman was ignoring Stacey and staring impassively at Claire. "I believe there is something wrong with this child," she said calmly.

Vanessa, eager to get attention focused back on herself, broke in. (You should know that Vanessa is a determined poet and loves to speak only in rhyme. Especially when she's trying to impress someone).

"I've always thought she crossed the line," Vanessa said, "But the doctor says she'll grow up fine." Actually, Vanessa's not half bad for a nine year old. The blue lady stopped staring at Claire and turned her gaze to Vanessa, who beamed proudly.

Meanwhile, the triplets, who are ten, were standing just a bit off to the side and were daring eight-year old Nicky to touch the crossbow. Kristy, thank God, realized this was a disastrous idea and broke them up. She's so good at things like that. Sometimes there's no substitute for a sharp whistle and a well-aimed pencil. Chastened, the triplets settled for circling the blue lady and _staring. _ The effect was kind of like that of a swarm of insects.

"Your pretty hair is so, so blue," said Vanessa. "Like the sky or some kind of glue." Sometimes Vanessa has to reach a bit for the rhyme.

"Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!" chanted Claire.

"How do you get your hair that color?" Stacey asked, "Do you think it might make me look older? People say I can already pass for 15!"

The blue lady just stood there and glared. She was actually dealing with this quite well. I wondered if she was a former baby-sitter.

Back on the other side of the room I heard Claudia exclaim "You like my outfit! I've always said orange is perfect for formalwear!"

I decided I was safest in the entryway and stood frozen in place for a minute or two before realizing that Mr. and Mrs. Pike were right next to me. They looked as shocked as I felt. I guessed they hadn't been told the purpose of this meeting either.

Just then, Mallory emerged from the kitchen holding a tray with little paper cups.

"Tang?" she asked cheerfully. Mr. and Mrs. Pike and I turned to look at her, openmouthed. She didn't seem bothered.

"Well, we can't get the meeting started till Dawn and Mary Anne get here, so I thought people might like refreshments." Claudia and the Cape Man (who seemed to share her knack for sensing the presence of sugar) headed over and helped themselves to a cup. Mallory smiled at him.

"Mom, Dad, Jessi . . . I'd like you to meet Andrew Wells, and his associate," she gestured towards the blue woman, "Illyria." Mr. Wells extended his hand to Mr. and Mrs. Pike. They didn't move.

Just then, Mary Anne and Dawn appeared in the doorway. Mary Anne was carrying two large bags of chips and Dawn had some carrots and celery.

"Sorry we're late," Dawn said, "We stopped at the store to get refreshments and some totally stale person was buying _veal_ . . ." Dawn took in the room and her voice trailed off. Wow, that was a first. Maybe Mallory was on to something after all.

"Ah, Mallory, these are the last two?" asked Mr. Wells, "Than we can began." He gestured for everyone to move in and began to speak in a deep voice (just like a movie star). "Everyone, I have a tale to tell you. A tale of the darkest creature of the night – the vampyre!"

Somehow, his voice managed to cut through the entire room. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards him. Mr. Wells began to speak.

The story Mr. Wells told us was very long and very interesting. (I prefer horse stories, but this wasn't bad either.) Apparently, at the beginning of time, demons walked the Earth instead of people. And then there were people too, but then that caused there to be half-humans/half-demons, which were named vampires. Vampires are pretty much like in all the stories, except they don't mind garlic. They're soulless, evil creatures who suck people's blood. Sometimes, though their souls get put back and then they're mostly good and also sometimes they're good when they fall in love, but to tell you the truth, that part kind of confused me.

Anyway, the important thing is that when vampires were created so was a Chosen One who stood alone against the forces of darkness. She was always a girl and was called the Slayer. She had lots of super powers like super strength and prophetic dreams.

But a few years ago, the people Mr. Wells works for did a spell to make girls all over the world with the _potential_ to be Slayers into _actual _Slayers. And now, any girl with the potential to be a Slayer will be called when she reaches what Mr. Wells calls "The full power of her womanhood."

Stacey nodded knowingly when he said that. I'd have to ask her what it meant later.

Mr. Wells went on and explained that he is a "Watcher." That means that he's someone who finds new Slayers, brings them back to the Slayer and Watchers Academy in England and helps train them to go about their slaying. Apparently he's a really super-important Watcher.

I could see a lot of us didn't believe him at this point. It was a nice story after all, but a story was all it was, right?

Except, and I couldn't explain how, I knew it was true. I knew _I _was a vampire slayer. It all made sense! How else could I be the youngest person ever (and the only black person) to have the lead in all my school's dance recitals? How else could I have won a gold medal in synchronized swimming _the first time I ever tried it._ It probably even had something to do with my ability to learn sign language in under a month. This was such a revelation! No _wonder _I had been born with such long legs!

Mr. Wells must have been trying to reach me when he called for a sitter – they would have just _assumed _that I did archery. So then Mallory had to call this meeting to explain it to everyone. Well, it was a reasonable assumption. After all, if I hadn't been so busy with all my other commitments, I might have joined the archery team myself.

Then Mr. Well spoke in his most important voice, breaking my train of thought. "Mallory," he intoned, "is a slayer of the vampyres." The room broke into an excited chatter, although I'm pretty sure they still didn't believe him. I, on the other hand, was just confused. Mallory? She wasn't athletic at all. And her legs were really short.

"I can see many of you do not yet believe," said Mr. Wells, sensing the mood in the room. Mallory. Illyria. Please move to the center of the room."

They moved forward, slowly and purposefully. It was actually kind of creepy.

"To demonstrate to you the extent of Mallory's new powers," he said, "I shall show you that she is almost a match for this ancient goddess, now held captive in human form."

Mallory and Illyria began to fight. I had never seen anything like it. Their arms and legs moved with incredible speed and grace – much faster and more graceful than me when I'm dancing. And they were strong. My family is Episcopalian, but I was starting to believe that was Illyria _was_ a goddess in human form. And Mallory? She was _amazing._ I didn't quite realize _how _amazing until Mallory managed to push Illyria down onto the coffee table and it _snapped_. In half. Mr. Wells called an end to the match.

I could tell that everyone in the room believed now.

I was still puzzled, though. I knew I was a Slayer; it was the only thing that made sense. But Mal clearly had Slayer powers.

And then it hit me. Her powers were only temporary. They were trying to test me to see if I would rise to the occasion. Poor Mal. It was going to be awfully tough on her when she found out.

But that didn't change anything. I _had _to get to that Slayers and Watchers Academy. I'd show them what I was made of.

I didn't think it would be easy. Even Mallory's parents weren't likely to be thrilled with her going so far away for so long, and she had been officially named as a Slayer.

Mr. and Mrs. Pike surprised me though. All the Pikes did. I think it was the demonstration that did it; they were a little afraid of what would happen if Mal wasn't trained (especially after she reminded everyone what had happened at the archery meet a few days earlier).

"We know that you do have to go," chirped Vanessa. "But we'll be sad to see you go!" The rest of the family nodded.

"But darling," Mrs. Pike said. "I hate to think of you going so far away alone. Your father and I can't leave work or the children, but do you think the BSC could go with you?"

Mr. Pike agreed. "We have enough saved up to pay for the tickets, if we skip Sea City this year."

"Oh, I'm sure I could find someplace for them to stay," Mr. Wells said casually. "They could help out Clem in the campus daycare center!"

It's nice that we have a reputation for being so responsible; it gets us all kinds of dibble opportunities. I talked to my parents that night (although I left out the part about Mal being a Slayer; as far as they were concerned she was going to "writing camp"). They agreed it was too good an opportunity to pass up. So did the parents' of the rest of the BSC.

We were going to London!

We were all excited about our trip, but I was most excited of all. I was going to prove myself worthy of being called "Slayer."


	3. Stacey

_Dear Lane,_

_Guess what? I'm writing this from a plane over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to London! Isn't that great? After growing up in New York, I'm sure London will feel old hat, but I can't wait anyway. I'm hoping to get a glimpse of Prince William! Isn't he dreamy?_

_Love,_

_Stacey_

It was amazing how quickly everything happened after the Pikes and Mr. Wells said we could go to London. Fortunately we all already had passports (at Kristy's insistence – what if a family called and wanted a mother's helper to accompany them out of the country), or we never could have gotten them in time.

Convincing my parents turned out to be the hardest part. Because I'm diabetic and have been so sick I've had to be hospitalized at points, they tend to be a bit overprotective. Mr. Wells assured them that they were used to accommodating people with special diets at the Slayers and Watchers Academy (except he gave them they same "Writing Camp" story Jessi gave her parents). That reassured them, and actually, it made me hopeful too. Did he mean there were other diabetics there? I had never met someone else with diabetes before.

By the time I got a chance to ask him, though, I was completely preoccupied. What was I going to pack? More importantly, what were my friends going to pack? The last thing I wanted when I met Prince William was a repeat of the time the BSC visited me in New York and Mary Anne dressed like someone out of _Little House on the Prairie_. Claudia and I spent the next several days trying on outfit after outfit and calling our friends to offer suggestions. I was pretty proud of my wardrobe; it definitely screamed "sophisticated." But Claudia was on a whole new level and put together some absolutely _fantastic _outfits for our trip. She's so creative.

Anyway, between packing, finding people to cover our sitting jobs, and saying goodbye to our favorite charges (Charlotte Johannsen and I spent a lot of time together), the few days before we left just flew by. First thing Tuesday morning, it was time to go to the airport.

We had quite a time going through security. I have no idea how Mr. Wells and Illyria kept all their weapons hidden, but they didn't have a problem. Claudia, on the other hand, wasn't allowed to take her flaming torch earrings on the plane no matter how much she protested that they were just a fashion accessory, and Jessi and Mallory both had crossbows confiscated from the lining of their suitcase. I swear to God, those two read entirely too many geeky fantasy novels. Everyone knows that boys are just not attracted to girls who pack heat.

I won't tell you too much about the flight. I wrote some postcards (I love sending mail to people almost as much as I like receiving it – I think it really helps them feel like they were there too), watched the movie, and even caught up on all the issues of _YM! _magazine I hadn't had time to read during the school year. Just because it's summer doesn't mean you should slack off on your reading and academics.

Fortunately, Mom had packed me a lunch for the plane, because they were serving lasagna with processed cheese. A lot of people don't realize there's sugar in processed cheese, but there is; that's the kind of thing that makes it so hard to be a diabetic. I felt bad because I didn't have enough food to share with Dawn (the lasagna had meat in it), but she didn't seem to notice and ate the airplane meal anyway.

It was late evening when we arrived in London. Mr. Wells led us through customs and out to a shuttle bus that had "St. Mildred's Academy for Girls" stenciled on the side. Claudia was puzzled.

"But that's not the Slayers and Watchers Academy," she said loudly. A few passers-by turned and stared. I swear, for a girl who reads so much Nancy Drew you'd think she'd be a little better at keeping secrets. Even if she doesn't have the practice I've gotten through my many clandestine love affairs.

Embarrassed, we filed onto the bus. A bit of a shock greeted us, because it turned out the drive was bright green and had horns. Just little ones, but still. Behind me, Mary Anne gasped.

"Oh my God, Stacey!" she exclaimed, "That's a rare cousin of the Ana-Movic demon family! They're hardly ever found outside of Africa." The driver glared at us and I smiled at him apologetically. I've come to expect these things when traveling with Mary Anne.

Mary Anne is a real guide book freak. I guess that extends to demon guide books too, now that she knows they exist. She's a little weird about things like that. Honestly, I was just hoping she spend all her time reading up on demons so we'd be spared a year-by-year history of every building in London. Because some of those buildings are really old.

I don't remember much about the bus trip. Once I got used to being on the wrong side of the road (which really wasn't so different from a lot of New York cab rides I've been on), it was pretty uneventful. Once we got off the freeway, we wound our way through street after street filled with identical buildings made of white brick. I hoped I wouldn't have to try to find this place again by myself. Eventually, we pulled up outside one of the buildings. It looked just like all the others we had passed except this one had a big metal sign over the door reading "St. Mildred's Academy for Girls," just like on the bus. It was a lot smaller than I'd pictured it.

Mr. Wells led us inside. In the entryway three people stood waiting to greet us. Mr. Wells gestured at them dramatically.

"Girls. I'd like you to meet Rupert Giles, Head Watcher and Dean." The first man he introduced was of medium height and build. He wore a conservative tweed suit and glasses, and he was probably about my father's age. Although, actually, he wasn't half bad looking. Hmm.

Next, Mr. Wells introduced a woman named Faith, who he said was a Slayer and Instructor. She was young, with long dark hair, and wore really tight leather pants. They were probably the chilliest pants I had ever seen; I wondered where she bought them.

The last man was even hotter than the first, and was tall with bleached blonde hair. Mr. Wells introduced him as Spike. I licked my lips a little when I thought about where _that _name probably came from.

I realized that Mr. Giles, Faith and Spike were all staring at us.

"You found _seven_ new Slayers in one tiny Connecticut town?" asked Mr. Giles. He looked like he didn't think he was going to like the answer very much.

"What kind of Hellmouth action do they have going on down there?" asked Faith casually. God, she was cool. I could just tell. Even cooler than my friend Lane, and she has a boyfriend named King.

Mr. Wells laughed. "No, no. Only this one," he pointed at Mallory, "is a Slayer. The rest are baby-sitters. I figured Clem could use some help."

Mr. Giles just glared.

"Are you telling me you took six pre-adolescent girls away from their families and across the bloody Atlantic Ocean to help in our _daycare center_." He was even dreamier when he was mad. I'd have to remember that for any future encounters.

"Where," he continued, "are you expecting them to stay? There's barely room for the _Slayers _in the Slayers dormitory."

"Why don't they stay with Angel?" asked Spike, with an evil grin. Which, incidentally, made _him _even hotter. I was going to like it here. "He has that spare bedroom."

Faith snickered at this. Mr. Giles just rolled his eyes.

"Very well. I, for one, want no part in it."

"I'll take them," Spike volunteered cheerfully. "Can't wait to see the look on the great poof's face." I wondered what that meant. I'd have to pick up a British _Cosmo_ so I could be down with the local lingo.

"I'm almost tempted to come too," Faith said, "but I should take this one to meet B. and the rest." She pointed at Mallory. "You come with me. I'll get you settled in with the Slayers."

Mallory followed her, looking more than a bit freaked out. I wasn't surprised; Mallory was definitely _not _the kind of girl who usually hung out with girls in leather pants. In fact, those girls were mostly just mean to her.

She cast one last look over her shoulder and disappeared around a corner. Mr. Giles took Mr. Wells and Illyria off to tell them about a "problem that had developed in their absence," and Spike led us in the opposite direction from the one Faith had taken Mallory. Jessi didn't look too happy about that (not surprising; they are best friends).

As we walked through the corridors, Spike explained to us that someone named Willow had done a spell that made the entrance to the building in London but the rest of it off in the country somewhere. That's why the front of the building looked small. But they had plenty of room for the school _and _the Watcher's Council (whatever that was) _and _staff apartments, plus outside training grounds in the back. As we entered the staff apartment section, the style of the building began to change. It looked sleeker and more modern, like my father's apartment building in New York.

We stopped in front of apartment number 315. Spike knocked rhythmically on the door.

Nobody answered and he started pounding. Finally, a tall, dark-haired man, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel, came to the door.

"Spike," he growled. "What the hell do you want?"

I didn't hear Spike's answer because I was too busy staring at the man who entered the door. He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life.

I had crushes before, but this. . . this was real. I was in luv. I just stood there for a minute, watching the water drip off his bare chest and prominent brow.

After a minute, I was startled out of my reverie when I realized Spike and Angel were in the middle of a full fledged argument.

"Nothing you can do about it, Angel, my friend," Spike was saying jovially. "This one comes straight from Giles."

"That's not fair!" Angel complained bitterly. "He just doesn't like me. I _apologized_ for the murder and the torture and even for the evil law firm thing. And most of that wasn't even technically my fault."

"Well, consider it your penance," Spike snickered, "Maybe this'll push you over the edge into shanshu-redemption-land."

"Yeah, maybe, if I hadn't signed it away in an attempt to redeem myself for all the other stuff. What am I supposed to feed them anyway? I don't exactly have thirteen year old girl food sitting in my refrigerator." He glanced at us cautiously before continuing. "You _know _we don't have compatible diets. And do they even know about that?"

Oh my God, this must be why we had such a connection! Angel was diabetic too! We really were soulmates! And he was nervous about telling us. He must think we'd reject him like those mean girls at school did when they found out _I _was diabetic. Well, I wouldn't say anything just yet; I'd wait for him to open up.

"No, I left that part of it for you to explain. As to food, I hear while you were off brooding they invented grocery stores. Have a good couple of weeks!" Spike whistled his way down the hall. Angel looked at us.

"Alright, come in, all of you. I'll see if I can scrounge up some extra blankets." I looked at him adoringly. This was going to be the best trip of my life.


	4. Dawn

_Dear Sunny,_

_London is totally __not as distant as California. It's cold and rainy and they just do not understand the concept of environmentally responsible health food. I'm working on raising consciousness. Can't wait to visit you and the We Love Kids Club later this summer!_

_Love,_

_Dawn_

Since I was on a free trip I didn't want to complain, and I certainly didn't want to offend my hosts. There are some things, however, I find too heinous to keep quiet about. I guess activism is in my blood. It was bred into me in the Orange County suburb in which I grew up. I was really lucky, actually. Not everybody has such an enlightened upbringing. I'd had to deal with that fact a lot since moving to Stoneybrook, but never as much as the first morning I was in London.

I woke up just before dawn, and I was the first one up. This didn't surprise me; the others were probably jetlagged. When you live bi-coastally like I do, however, you have to be adaptable. Besides, I firmly believe that rising early is the healthiest and most natural course of action. It even goes with my name!

It had been pretty late by the time we had reached Angel's apartment the night before, and we all went straight to bed. Spike was right. He did have a lot of space for one person. Stacey and Claudia shared the bed in the spare room (he said it was for when his son came to visit), Mary Anne and Kristy took the hide-a-bed in the office, and Jessi, muttering something about "being in training," volunteered to sleep on the floor. I like having a room to myself, so I said I'd take the couch in the living room.

That was before I knew it was leather. What kind of individual kills a beautiful, graceful cow to make their _couch_. I gasped when I saw it; it was just horrible. I didn't say anything though. I wanted to give Angel the benefit of the doubt. Who knows? Maybe it came with the apartment. Besides, I was pretty tired at that point and once I lay down on it, the leather actually felt pretty soft and comfortable.

What I saw the next morning, though, could not be ignored.

I went into the kitchen hoping to find some fresh fruit or yogurt, although from what I had heard about English food, I wasn't expecting much. I opened the refrigerator and it was almost empty (that's right; he and Spike had said something last night about grocery shopping). In fact, the only thing in it were several clear glass bottles with tomato juice.

Maybe I had judged Angel too quickly, I thought. Tomato juice is a dibbly healthy and tasty breakfast! In fact, at home, I often garnish a tall, cool glass with a stick of celery for an Earth- and body-friendly snack. I can never convince the other BSC members of its merits, though. Maybe Angel would help persuade them; Stacey, for one, seemed quite taken with him.

I grabbed one of the bottles from the shelf and took a long, refreshing swig.

As soon as I tasted it, I dropped the bottle in shock and it shattered all over the floor. It wasn't tomato juice. It was cold, and salty, and kind of clotted

It was _blood._

"Dawn!" Angel exclaimed from behind me. I turned around and saw him standing by the door, wearing a leather coat, of _course_, and setting bags of groceries on the counter. He looked concerned.

"I'm so sorry, Dawn. It's not what you think. Really, it's not. It's just pigs' blood."

"Pigs' blood? Pigs' blood? You think that's supposed to make it better?" I knew it was rude to yell at my host like that, but I was too angry to care. "I overlooked your murder-coat and your murder-couch, but now you expect me to think it's okay that you have _bottles of blood _in your refrigerator because it's _just_ pig's blood?" I was on a roll now. Angel just stood there and stared at me with the same perplexed expression Claudia has when I try to tell her about the problems with marshmallows.

"Don't you realize that pigs are clean, gentle and noble creatures? Did you even read _Charlotte's Web_? I don't think I can spend one more minute in an apartment with someone who thinks it's okay to take pigs and drain out their blood." As I said it, I had a mental image of a massive pig blood factory, with huge machines that squeezed the blood out of pigs and then a faucet that filled wine glasses with blood. The idea made me even angrier.

I stormed past Angel (who was still just standing there, blinking), out the front door, and into the corridor.

I turned a few corners, and realized I was getting back into the older part of the complex. At this point, I was still pretty annoyed, and muttered to myself: "Pigs' blood. Ech."

A youngish woman with dark hair that fell in waves down her back and a long, ornate dress emerged from the shadows.

"Oi, pigs' blood," she said. "My Spike and my Angelus drink pigs' blood. Nasty, nasty pigs' blood. Breaking up our little family."

Her voice had an odd lilt to it and with that and her hair and her clothes, I realized what she must be. A hippie! My mom had told me all about hippies. Apparently it's what she was when she was at college in Berkeley, and she said it made her the person she is now. Before college, she was a meat-eating, straight-A engineering major, but by the time she graduated she was the absent-minded, vegan Sharon we know today! She even changed her major to Peace and Conflict Studies! Its always been my dream to go to Berkeley and follow in her footsteps, and so it was way cool that I was meeting a modern day hippie right here in London. In fact, she reminded me a lot of my mom, right down to the vague, unfocused look in her eyes.

Anyway, the woman kept talking about Angel and Spike and family and pigs' blood. Also something about souls. She was right. Carnivorousness is _so _soul destroying.

But family? She and Spike and Angel must all be related (she even called Angel "Angelus" – what a cute pet name!), but she'd had to disown them because of their animal-persecuting habits. I understood. I'd probably feel the same way if I found out my little brother Jeff was drinking pigs' blood. The woman continued:

"The pretty little girl hates pigs' blood too? Maybe the pretty little girl could help me with my plan."

As she said this, she looked deep into my eyes. It was intense – like she was seeing straight into my soul. She stood frozen for a minute. Well, everyone does say I have exceptionally pretty eyes.

"Pretty little Dawn will help me with my plan and stop the soully men from drinking the pigs' blood."

How did she know my name? I tried to look away and found I couldn't. I was scared for a minute. Something just seemed _wrong _about her.

She kept looking into my eyes and she began to hum.

And then I realized that everything was perfectly alright. This woman was good and kind and gentle. She was _special._

In a sweet voice, she explained her plan. It was brilliant! We'd stop Angel and Spike from drinking blood and strike a huge blow for animal rights. And I could help reunite this woman with her family.

She needed my help to obtain a few things. It was great to have a cause again. This would be just like the time I organized the charity slumber party at Stoneybrook Elementary School, but _funner_. I started to leave – I needed to get right to work. But first:

"You never told me your name," I said to the woman.

"They call me Drusilla," she replied dazedly, and started humming again. Man, the resemblance to my mom was just uncanny.

I wasn't mad at Angel at all anymore. Drusilla had made me understand; it wasn't his fault he was so unenlightened. I was even beginning to regret my hasty temper. Not too much because, after all, I was right and also because I wouldn't have met Drusilla if I hadn't stormed out of his apartment. But when I got back, I'd make a point of accepting his apology.

I wasn't going back yet, though. I couldn't wait to start helping Drusilla with her plan.

It was going to be a great vacation.


	5. Mary Anne

_Dear Logan,_

_I know its only been two days since I left Stoneybrook, but it seems so much longer! Two whole weeks without seeing you? It's almost as bad as the agony I experienced on all those other BSC trips I went on without you! How will we survive?_

_Anyway, London is totally distant. Guess what? I have a new job! But it has to do with you-know-what, so I'll have to tell you about it when I get back._

_Hugs and Kisses!_

_Mary Anne_

I knew I wasn't supposed to tell Logan about the Slayers and Watcher's Academy, but I just couldn't bring myself to lie to him. Besides, that writing camp story was pretty flimsy. The only reason my parents bought it is that Dawn and I got Sharon's permission before trying to convince my Dad, and Sharon'll believe anything.

Anyway, I think it's super dibble that Logan and I have such a tight bond. We can share anything! It _was _hard being away from him (I almost cried on the plane when they served lasagna – his favorite), but the new job I got was so exciting it almost, I'm ashamed to say, drove Logan from my mind. Before I tell you about it, though, I'll have to back up a little to our first morning at the Academy.

We were so tired by the time we reached London that we all slept straight through the night and woke up quite a bit later than normal (even for summer vacation). All of us except Dawn, that is. By the time I had dragged myself out of bed, gotten dressed, and stumbled into the kitchen to search for breakfast, she was already gone, probably because she had been the only one of us to sleep on the plane.

It actually turned out to be a good thing that Dawn had left, because Mr. Angel was standing at the sink making eggs and toast. Dawn has been really anti-egg lately. She says we're destroying baby chickens. I told her I didn't think it works that way, but she _is_ the environmentalist, so I suppose she knows better than me.

While Mr. Angel cooked, Kristy and Jessi were working out in the living room. They're both athletes (Kristy does softball and Jessi, of course, is a dancer), so it didn't surprise me that they wanted to keep in shape while we were in London, but I hadn't realized that dancers and softball players did martial arts routines at warm-ups. Well, I supposed Kristy just likes the violence, but I felt like Jessi must be up to something. I had to admit, though, that I'm not very well informed about sports. I always just work in the concession stand at Stoneybrook Middle School sporting events.

Stacey and Claudia were still in the bathroom getting ready, which is pretty normal for them. They're both gorgeous and super-fashionable, but they're definitely what Logan calls "high-maintenance." I don't want to be snooty, but there's a reason I'm the one with the steady boyfriend; boys just don't like girls who are too much trouble.

Mr. Angel didn't need any help with breakfast, so I went into the living room and watched Kristy and Jessi for a few minutes. They were using Mr. Angel's pillows as punching bags. Fortunately for them, he couldn't see them from where they were standing – he seemed pretty attached to that couch. Last night he gave us a long lecture about keeping peanut butter away from it. It didn't really matter, though, because they kept missing the target. Not that I'd ever laugh at them, but it was pretty funny. Finally, Kristy got frustrated and pulled her favorite throwing pencil from behind her ear. She aimed at the pillow and I rushed forward to stop her (I'm really careful about respecting other people's homes).

As it turned out, I didn't need to do anything. At that moment, Claudia and Stacey emerged from the bathroom, and as we caught sight of them, we all froze.

Ever since I got my makeover, I consider myself to be pretty fashionable. But Stacey and Claudia are in a whole different league. I don't think I'll be as trendy as they are when I'm in _college_.

Today, Stacey was wearing a leather catsuit really similar to the one Illyria had worn to that meeting at Mal's house. She had made it extra sophisticated by cutting several large pieces of fabric out of it! For instance, there was a big hole right around the chest. I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous of how well she fills out bikinis and catsuits. Even if I _am _the one with the boyfriend.

To complete her outfit, she was wearing knee-high stiletto boots. I knew I wouldn't have been able to walk in them without tripping, but Stacey looked distant.

Claudia's outfit was just as dibble, but in a completely different style. In honor of Mal's new job, she had put together a chilly vampire slayer outfit! She had on lime green leggings, on which she had painted hundreds of little garlic bulbs. Her earrings were little stakes made out of real slivers of wood. She was only wearing a plain black t-shirt, but that just made her necklace stand out even more. It was her necklace that really crowned the outfit, and like all of her best creations, she had made it herself.

It was made of two pieces of cardboard glued together in the shape of a crucifix. She had spraypainted them to look like real wood, and then attached a paper macheJesus to it. The best part, though, was that she had made Our Lord and Savior really sparkle by covering him with sequins! She even had tiny red sequins to be the stigmata. Needless to say, the effect was stunning.

Mr. Angel came into the living room. "Girls, are you all here? Breakfast is . . . .ARGH." He caught sight of Claudia's necklace and almost dropped the pan of eggs he was carrying.

"Your made breakfast?" Stacey asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes. "That's so sweeeeet!" Wow, she sounded just like she did when Kristy's brother Sam was in the room. How weird.

"You know I'm _diabetic_, right?" she asked, winking at him.

Mr. Angel was still staring at Claudia's necklace. As I said, it was a very striking piece of jewelry.

He turned and looked at Stacey, almost dropped the eggs _again _and then looked away. Stacey has that effect on men sometimes; I suspect it has something to do with how sophisticated she is. "Umm, no, Spike didn't mention that. But eggs and toast should be fine, right?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "I knew _you'd_ understand."

Mr. Angel shook his head a bit and we followed him back to the kitchen and sat down at the table he had set. The eggs were actually quite good and they made me a bit homesick. I mean, my dad doesn't have time to make breakfast before work and Sharon would never make eggs, but I bet Logan's mother does. They're from Kentucky, you know, and he has the sweetest Southern accent.

I felt my eyes fill up with tears (I cry very easily).

"Thank you for making us breakfast, Mr. Angel," I said to distract myself.

"No problem," he said. "I used to enjoy doing this. But it's just Angel. No 'mister'."

"Oh, but my father would kill me if he heard me calling an adult by their first name," I said. I always feel like he's watching me, even when he's not there.

None of us had eaten anything since the plane flight yesterday afternoon, so we were pretty hungry. I noticed Mr. Angel didn't eat much, though, which I thought was kind of weird.

When we finished, I helped him clear the table, while Kristy and Jessi went back to their warm-ups and Stacey and Claudia went to the bathroom to touch up their make-up and sequins, respectively. Just as I was drying the last plate, there was a knock on the door.

Mr. Angel answered, and I heard him say "Hi, Dawn." Oh my God, I had forgotten about Dawn! Where _had _she gotten to? She wouldn't have left the complex by herself; she's terrified of cities. I turned around, ready to ask her where she had been, but the girl standing there was definitely not Dawn. At least, she wasn't _my _Dawn. She was about 17 or 18 and very pretty, with shiny, long hair. I wondered if she was another Slayer.

"Dawn works in our research division," Mr. Angel explained, seeing me looking at her. "She's familiar with the whole complex, so she's going to take you over to the daycare center this morning."

The girl nodded. "But I understand you already have a Dawn, so you can call me "Umad." She giggled.

That reminded me. "Mr. Angel, where _is_ our Dawn? I haven't seen her all morning."

He sighed. "She, umm, went for a walk. Do you think she would have left the complex?" I shook my head. "Don't worry then; we have anti-demon spells on the grounds; only known, friendly demons can get in. I'm sure she's fine."

Well, she had grown up near Los Angeles. I'm sure she knew how to handle herself in all kinds of environments. She had certainly handled herself well the time she and Claudia got stranded on that desert island.

We managed to round-up the other girls and get everyone ready to leave. Jessi said she was going to go check up on Mal first, and Stacey announced that she was going to stay in the apartment to . . . she glanced at the bookshelves on the wall. . . .read. That surprised me; Mr. Angel didn't seem like the type who would have had a lot of issues of _Seventeen_ lying around.

Mr. Angel winced. "Dawn, when you're done with the girls, I'll meet you in the library to discuss that _very important _ _case_ we're working on, okay?"

"What case?" He stared at her. "Oh, _that _case. Sure. See you in a bit."

Kristy, Claudia and I followed Umad out the door, and she led us down the hallway. The complex sure was complicated. I managed to just barely keep track of where we were going, but I had to use all my BSC-trained memory skills to do so (in all my time as club secretary, I've never made a mistake!).

As we moved from the residential quarters into what Umad called the "officy" part of the complex, the hallways became very crowded. We passed all sorts of people carrying everything from crystal balls to crossbows and wearing everything you could imagine. I could tell that Claduia was getting dibbly inspired by the fashion possibilities, and she was getting quite a lot of admiring stares herself.

I was more interested in the fact that a lot of the people we were passing weren't technically human at all. I should tell you that I'm a bit of a guide book freak. Normally when my friends and I go on vacation (which happens a lot), I read _everything_ about our destination. I even knew more about New York than Stacey, and she grew up there! It's a lot of work, doing all that research, but I love it, and I think my friends really appreciate the background knowledge.

On this trip, though, I knew we probably wouldn't be spending much time in London itself. So I read everything I could find on demons, slayers and the Watcher's Council (Mr. Wells was helpful enough to point me towards some fascinating sources). It had all been distant, but the demons were the most interesting part.

That's why, when we passed a Thorcrossic demon on our left, I was so excited I couldn't help myself. "Claudia," I said excitedly, "do you know how rare those are? They're only native to Madagascar. They're generally friendly, but when they get angry they can shoot fire from their eyes!"

Claudia gave me a confused look, and the Throcrossic demon gave me an annoyed one. Oops, maybe that hadn't been such a good idea.

Umad said something to the demon in a different language (I had heard demons had their own languages – it was so exciting to actually hear it!), and it gave me another glare and moved on. Whew.

She gave me an impressed look. "You know your stuff," she observed.

"Well, I've done some reading up," I said shyly. Unlike some of the other BSC members, I always feel uncomfortable talking about my accomplishments.

"I can tell," she responded. "Listen, you wouldn't believe the shortage of good researchers we have around here. Most of the Slayers think every problem can be solved with nothing more than a pointed stick."

At the words "pointed stick" Kristy, who had been distracted by the various kinds of weaponry parading past us, perked up. I swear, I'll never stop being surprised (and a little frightened) by that girl's capacity for violence.

Anyway, Umad continued. "We could use someone with your skills in the library, if you don't mind missing out on the day care center," she said. "I don't know if there's anything specific we're working on at the moment, but there's always more to do than time to do it."

I know that, being a babysitter and all, I should have wanted to go to the daycare center, but, truth to tell, I had been feeling a little jealous of Mal (I think we all had), and I jumped at the chance to distinguish myself.

"Of c-c-course! W-where do I go?" I stammered (sometimes my shyness really gets in the way).

She pointed me towards the library, telling me she'd be back once she had taken Claudia and Kristy to the daycare center. I walked towards it and paused in front of the door. I was used to babysitting, sure, but this was a _real_ job. What if I disgraced myself?

I thought about all the adventures my friends and I had shared over the past four years. You know what? If I could handle that, I could handle _anything._ I pushed open the door.

Inside was Mr. Giles (actually, he had just been introduced as "Giles" – why doesn't anyone around here have two names?), and a younger man with brown hair and an eye patch. I had never seen anyone with an eye patch before. I hoped he wasn't a pirate; they really scared me.

Mr. Giles glared at me. "Didn't you come in with the new slayer yesterday? What are you doing here?"

He was really scary when he glared. "I'm M-mary Anne. Umad, I m-mean, D-d-dawn said I should come to h-help with the r-research," I stammered.

"Aww, don't let him scare you," eye patch-guy reassured me. "I'm Xander. Welcome to the gang." He handed me a book. "We've had some thefts – mmmFashnik demons."

I knew all about those. You pronounced it like "mmm. . .cookies!". I smiled at Xander . "I'll get right on it!"

He smiled back. "Mary Anne? Welcome to the Scooby Gang."


	6. Kristy

_Dear Bart,_

_London is great and I'm pioneering some really exciting new babysitting concepts. Also, there are weapons everywhere. I even got my very own mace. Isn't that distant?_

_When I get back to Stoneybrook, the Krushers are going to kill the Bashers._

_Kristy_

That postcard was to Bart, my sort-of boyfriend. He has his own softball team that plays my Krushers, and sometimes we watch movies and eat popcorn. He's pretty cool for a boy, but I definitely don't like him the way that Mary Anne likes Logan or that Stacey likes everyone. I'm just not interested in that kind of relationship right now.

I told the truth in my postcard; I was having a great time and my babysitting had never been better (also, my mace was just chilly). What I didn't say was that I was pretty miffed at my friends. I had never realized before this trip how _wrong_ their priorities are.

I always knew I was more committed to babysitting than the other BSC girls. After all, the club was my idea. But I hadn't thought things were this bad. Within twelve hours of our arrival in London, Dawn and Jessi had disappeared, Stacey had fallen in love _again_ and Mallory and Mary Anne had taken new jobs. I'm not saying that defending humanity against the darkest forces of hell isn't important, but so is the BSC. And don't even get me started on Claudia (actually, I'll tell you about her in a minute).

So you can see why when Mary Anne abandoned us to go do research in the library, I was pretty annoyed. I was so excited to meet my new charges that I didn't focus on it much at the time.

I was even more excited when Umad led us into the daycare center. I had never seen kids having so much fun! Half of them were humans and half were demons, but they were all happily shooting each other with MyFirstCrossbows with Nerf bolts, sparring with foam swords, and levitating crayons with their mind. This was just _dibble_.

I wanted to jump right in, but first Umad introduced us to Clem, a large, orange, wrinkly demon with floppy ears (I'm sure Mary Anne would have known the proper name _had she been there)_. Clem shook my hand politely, then turned his attention to Claudia.

"Where did you buy that necklace?" he asked. "It has to be worth its weight in kittens - I mean, gold."

"I made it!" she chirped happily. Claudia is always happy to show off her artistic creations, although I think it's a bit silly myself. Last year it was sheep, this year it's papier mache Jesuses. Personally, I'm happy in my sweatshirt and jeans.

But Clem seemed to be impressed.

"Wow. Do you make things like that a lot? Do you have any idea what demons would pay for your work in some of the wealthier hell dimensions?"

Claudia looked at him, interested. Her parents make her by her own clothes, snacks, and Nancy Drew mysteries, so she's always looking for new ways to make money.

"But how would I get involved in that?" she asked. "I mean, I've always wanted to sell my designs, but I think the samples I've sent to designers must have gotten lost in the mail or something."

"You stick with me, kid," he responded enthusiastically. "What do you think? Should we call it Demonic Designs? Or Carnage Couture?" They wandered off towards the back office, chatting happily.

"Claudia," I shouted after them. "You're supposed to help with the kids."

"I'll help later," she groaned. "Come on, Kristy. You're really harshing my buzz." See? This is what I'm saying about lack of commitment.

Just then, I heard shrieks behind me. A fight had broken out in the daycare center, and fur was flying. Literally.

I waded in, and pulled the participants apart. Fortunately, even though half of them were demons, they were very small demons.

"What's going on here?" I asked in my best "baby-sitter" voice. A little red, horned demon boy was sobbing hysterically.

"She said if she stabbed me with that sword, it would suck me into a hell vortex and I'd be stuck there for centuries!" he wailed, pointing at a little blonde girl, who shrugged innocently.

"There will be no hell vortexes in _my_ daycare center," I said firmly. "Now why would you tell little. . ." I realized I didn't know his name.

"Grizlink," he provided helpfully.

"Why would you tell little Grizlink that?" I asked the girl.

"My mother's a Slayer so it's my job to fight the forces of darkness," she said. "Mommy says demons are minions from hell." Grizlink started crying again, and I noticed several of the other human and demon children were glaring at each other or, in a couple of cases, sticking out their forked tongues.

"Hey, there are no minions of hell here!" I exclaimed. It's important for baby-sitters to reinforce good moral values, like tolerance.

I heard a sob behind me. A small blue child had grabbed a girl's stuffed kitty and was pretending to eat it. As I took the toy away, I started to think.

I could tell that morale at the daycare center was completely stale. I was going to have to do something fast if I wanted to turn things around.

And that was when I had my Great Idea.

I have Great Ideas a lot. In fact, the BSC itself was one of them. I'm also solely responsible for Kid Kits, which are boxes full of toys, games, and craft projects that we take with us when we sit. But this was my best idea yet.

What I needed to do was unite the human children with the demon children, and to teach them that we were all on the same side. I knew that changing their attitudes wouldn't be easy, even with all my previous experience dealing with racism and prejudice. But I was pretty sure that plan would turn things around.

What I was going to do was start a Junior Slayer Squad. It would be just like Kristy's Krushers, except with weapons instead of softballs! I'd turn them into a fully functional demon hunting unit. There was no way it could go wrong!

I put on my best "coach" voice and addressed the assembled children. "Line up. All of you. I want you side-by-side, three inches apart. All right. Now, march. Left, right, left, right."

It worked! The children quickly fell into place, and before long I had them marching around the room. After that, we had running drills, then some routine weapons practice. By the our mid-morning snack came around, they were already thinking like a team. In fact, I was even able to assign them to pairs for sparring without a single fight breaking out.

I knew this was my best idea ever, even better than the maple sugaring I was planning for our Harvest Festival next October. I couldn't wait to demonstrate my elite fighting squad to the others. I'd show Mallory and Mary Anne what babysitting could accomplish.


	7. Claudia

_Dear Janeen,_

_Hullo from Lundin! You wont beleve how grate things are hear! I even hav a new business. I'm seling my art work, and peeple here luv it._

_I always new I was to addvancd for Stonybruk. Peeple their have totaly stale fashun cents. Yourup is way dibbler._

_Luv,_

_Claudia_

I have to admit; I was bragging. After all, Janine had always been the "smart" and "successful" one in the family, at least in conventional ways. Now that it was my turn to shine, I couldn't resist rubbing her nose in it just a bit. I'm not a horrible sister, though; I'll be glad to help pay for her college tuition with all the money I earn. And I'll even help my parents out with the family bills (trust me – when I'm paying for things, there will be _much_ more marshmallow cream served with dinner.)

As you can probably tell, the company Clem and I had started was going _great_. I spent the next few days busily creating mock-ups of our products for the catalogue and Clem spent them jumping in and out of various hell dimensions to publicize it. Demons and other evil entities _loved _it – he was already getting pre-orders!

Guess what? Apparently, the First Evil told him that if it was corporeal (whatever that means), it would have wanted one of everything! And with a name like that, you _know _the First must be super important.

About five days after we'd arrived in London, I was working on what Clem called our "Big Bad" collection. He gave me some basic concepts, and I was supposed to turn them into wearable art. I was so inspired that it was going really quickly. By 10AM, I had already finished two pieces: the Ascension Earring Set was made out of fimo (one of my favorite mediums), and had a little man in one ear, and a giant snake in the other, and the Hell Goddess stilettos were red, and covered with little flames made of orange and red glass beads. I made sure the heels were really high and the toes were steel tipped, so you could stomp down your minions and still be fashionable.

Finally, I was putting the finishing touches on a t-shirt depicting what Clem said was a historical scene. It showed a man being flayed! It was a really fun scene to do, because it gave me an opportunity to use all the puff paint I had brought along. Although, now that I thought about it, I was running a bit short on the red . . .

Suddenly, Kristy's voice drifted into my little backroom office. "Left, right. Left, right" she droned. Oh God, not again. It was so hard to work with all this violence. Personally, I only pursue suffering in the name of _art_.

Kristy wasn't the only one acting strangely. To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what had gotten into my friends since our arrival. Take last night, at dinner.

Angel had made us all omelets (I think eggs might be the only thing he knows how to cook. If you ask me he needs to spend a bit more time focusing on the "butter," "sugar," and "chocolate" layers of the food pyramid.) Even so, they weren't bad, and I was eating enthusiastically. So was Kristy – I think all that marching builds up on appetite.

Nobody else, however, even touched their food. Mary Anne refused to put down her book, and only lasted five minutes at the table before she left, saying she didn't want anyone to spill on it. Jessi was picking at her food, looking morose. Stacey was picking at her food, gazing at Angel. And Dawn was so spacey that she was actually picking at her food instead of complaining about it. I'm telling you, it was just weird. I don't think anyone said more than two sentences for the whole meal.

And get this. When I tried to tell them about Demonic Designs, every single one of them rolled their eyes. Rolled their eyes! Then Mary Anne said maybe I should focus on more important things, and everyone nodded. I can't believe they weren't showing more respect for my art. The Phillistinians.

As if that wasn't weird (and annoying) enough, after dinner Angel left the apartment for a bit and I caught Dawn sneaking out of his room carrying some kind of plastic tube and then fighting over it with Stacey, who said she needed it for a souvenir. Kristy and Jessi didn't notice because they were too busy trying to pick the lock on his weapons chest, and Mary Anne didn't even look up from her book.

I can't tell you what a relief it was to get back to the Demonic Designs office the next day. Clem may be a demon, but at least he's normal. And he brought me fried chicken, which after a few days of eggs is just _vital_.

Anyway, after Kristy had shattered my concentration, I realized Clem and Andrew (the Mr. Wells we had met in Stoneybrook – he was helping us with the business side of thigns) had come in behind me and were watching me work.

"It's just . . .beautiful!" Andrew said, wiping a tear from his eye. "Ah, it takes me back to the olden days. He looks almost god-like, doesn't he?"

Wow, I had never moved anyone to tears with clothing before. Well, sometimes my mother cries when she sees what I'm wearing, but mothers don't count, right?

"Yeah, it's a keeper alright," said Clem. "Listen, do you think you can spot us six Siamese and two Russian Long Hairs? We're running short of start-up capital, and some of the brighter puff paints can only be bought in the lower hell dimensions."

"Sure," Andrew said. "I want in on this one. I'll bring 'em by this afternoon in a laundry hamper."

Ooh, kittens? Too bad Mary Anne spends all her time in the library, I thought, she loves kittens. On the other hand, it's her loss; maybe it'll teach her there's a price for being so obsessed, not to mention rude.

Clem handed me a Mars bar, which he knows is necessary mid-morning to keep my sugar levels in an appropriate place.

"Claud, can you take a break from that? I got a phone call this morning; a client wants to come by in person. She says she needs to place a very special order."

"Won't the wards keep her out?" asked Andrew. "Willow did quite a job on them."

"Nah, she says not. Maybe she sides with the forces of good!" They both chuckled. "Anyway," Clem continued, "she should be by in just a minute."

There was a knock on the office door (we always keep it closed to block out the drilling out in the daycare center, plus the last thing I need is the kids thinking my work is one of their arts and craft projects).

"The new client!" Clem exclaimed. Andrew opened the door and swept the woman inside with an exaggerated bow.

The woman was tall and thin, with long, dark hair and a red velvet dress. It was pretty enough, but too conventional for my tastes. Add some lime green, on the other hand. . .

Oops, I got distracted. Fashion tends to do that to me. Anyway, the woman stared at us for a while without saying anything and then turned to me.

"Oh!" she groaned. "The stars! They tell me you are the one, little girl. You will make Gilroth reborn."

Man, she sounded just like Dawn's mother! How uncanny.

"That's just spiffy," Andrew told her, "We're good with Gilroth here at Demonic Designs. Now, do you happen to have a picture of the piece you want commissioned?"

The woman placed a piece of paper in front of me, an old black and white drawing of a necklace. It looked like it got ripped out of one of those books Mary Anne always has her nose in. It wasn't the kind of necklace I'd normally like – there weren't any bright colors or interesting themes, but I couldn't stop looking at that picture.

"Good. You _will _make the amulet," she said. "I will get daddy back. I will come for it when the moon is at its fullest point."

The sound of her voice startled me, and I looked up at her again. She smiled at me, and I shivered. A chicken walking over my grave, Mimi always used to say.

'There is the small matter of payment," Clem said cheerfully.

"Of course." She handed him a wad of bills. Clem counted them, looked up, and then began to hurry the woman out the door.

"Oh, no problem, this should be plenty." After she left, he shut the door behind her. "Claudia, this is our biggest commission yet. You have three days to the full moon - think you can finish?"

"No problem," I replied. It was going to be my biggest challenge yet, but I couldn't wait to try making something like that amulet. And the best part was, the picture was black and white, so the colors were going to be entirely up to me. This was going to be even _better_ than the original; I could feel it.


	8. Mallory 2

Mallory, Slayer of the Vampyres 

_The night was quiet, devoid of all life, demon and otherwise. But the slayer of the vampyres did not rest: ever vigilant, she guarded the dark places of the Earth, and ever ready, she trained mercilessly, pushing the limits of even her slayer strength and endurance._

_The slayer was preparing herself for all the evil that Hell could thrust upon her. She was preparing herself for the coming apocalypse, the day when evil would once more try to take its place as Master of the Earth._

_She prepared for months, never stopping hardly even sleeping, dreaming of the hordes to come, till at least she knew._

_She was ready._

Okay, I wasn't _really_ training day and night, but I was working really hard and learning dibble new ways to kill people (Kristy would have loved it!). And guess what? I was having _fun_ too. The other Slayers-in-Training were all super-distant. I totally couldn't understand why they had a reputation for being kind of annoying.

I was pretty nervous at first, though, when Faith led me away from the rest of the BSC. I kept looking back over my shoulder as we walked until my friends were out of sight. Wherever we were going seemed to be on the opposite end of the complex from where we came in. We turned corner after corner, and Faith pointed out various things along the way.

"This is the library," she pointed at one room. "I imagine you like to read."

How had she known that? Oh right, I was wearing my "Authors do it between the pages" t-shirt. I wasn't quite sure what it meant, but Stacey assured me it was way chilly. Besides, it went well with the rainbow suspenders I had borrowed from Claudia.

I was too nervous to do more than swallow and nod. Faith was intimidating – it was like she had combined the sophistication of Stacey with the violent tendencies of Kristy. Eeek!

We kept walking and she continued the tour. "This the daycare center where your friends'll be working," she gestured to a door on our left, "and this is where we do the ritual sacrifices." She must have noticed my expression, because she added "Don't worry; they're strictly animal these days. It comes up occasionally, ya know?"

That didn't help. Faith tried to reassure me.

"Hey, don't worry kid. Everyone here was in the same boast as you when they first got here. You get used to it. It's all five-by-five."

That cheered me up! Apparently Faith and her friends like to make up slang words too! That made me lose some of my shyness, and I told Faith all about how dibble, chilly and distant mean cool, but stale means totally uncool.

I think she was really interested because I saw her eyes widen a bit – she was probably impressed by my command of the English language. Writers are good at that.

Just as I had finished explaining BSC slang and started asking Faith about hers, we reached a large, open area that looked like a combination between a gymnastics studio and the riding ring they use in the _Saddle Club _(I love horse stories). Girls my age and older were spread out around the ring. Some were running laps, some were sparring with various kinds of weaponry, and some were practicing acrobatics. It was a pretty impressive (and intimidating) sight.

Faith waved over a pretty blonde girl, probably 23 or 24, who seemed to be in charge of some of the younger girls.

"Hey, B – this one's for you." At this, the blonde girl said something to her group and walked over to join us.

"New Slayer?" she aked.

'New Slayer," Faith confirmed, then turned to me. "Mallory, this is Buffy. She takes the new Slayers."

Buffy? What kind of name is _Buffy_ for a vampire slayer? It didn't convey the proper dignity at all. I prefer Melanora. Or maybe Zinthanelia.

Buffy smiled at me. "My group is practicing over there." She pointed at the girls she had been practicing with a moment earlier, and my eyes followed. A pretty brunette did a backflip, then caught a knife in mid-air.

Yikes. I know I have super-powers and all now, but have I mentioned that gym class is _not_ my best subject?

Buffy must have noticed I looked nervous. "Don't worry. I get way less Slayers killed than Faith. It's a whole thing." She and Faith exchanged kind of scary smiles. It reminded me of that big sailing rivalry Dawn and Claudia used to have. Aww, I missed the BSC already.

"I'm back to my group, B," Faith said, startling me out of my reverie. "Good luck." Faith walked away, and Buffy (should I call her B?) turned towards me.

"It's pretty late and we're about to call it quits for the night, but let's try you on the crossbow first," Together, we walked over to join the other girls, who had moved over to the archery range.

For the first time since I arrived at the Academy, I felt confident. Archery was something I was good at (at least, it was now that I had my new Slayer powers). I'd show those Slayers what Mallory Pike was made of!

Over the next few days, I was thrilled to discover that everything was coming to me as easily as archery had. It was just like the time my epic story about growing up with lots of brothers and sisters had won first place in the school writing competition. Except, instead of writing, everyone was recognizing me for my Slayer skills!

Despite how well things were going, I was a little shy around the other girls in my group at first, especially the older girls. But my roommate and I clicked immediately. Her name was Jasmina and guess what? She was black, just like Jessi! Isn't that dibble?

She has a funny accent, but we get along really well. She never fit in at school or had a best friend as a child either. That's because she's from some island where they send girls with Slayer potential away to be trained at a really young age. Her parents were totally thrilled when she came into her full Slayer powers (or so they said in their letters), and so they sent her to the Slayer and Watchers Academy right away. She arrived the day before me, which is why we're roommates.

Actually, I've been really helpful to Jasmina, since not only do I know what it's like not to fit in, baby-sitting has given me wide-ranging experience. She can look up to me for practical, real world advice. For instance, back on the island Jasmina wasn't allowed to talk to boys, so she's dibbly impressed by my sort-of-boyfriend Ben Hobart. She loves to hear me talk about our library dates.

Plus, being friends with Jessi and Claudia has made me aware of the discrimination faced by minorities. Actually, _I _was even discriminated against once when this racist family thought I was Catholic. Go figure, huh?

Jasmina and I were having a great time together, but the fourth night I was in London, our full group of friends really gelled. I was explaining to Jasmina the difference between "chilly" and "distant" (subtle, but as a writer it's my job to notice these things), when there was a knock on the door.

I opened it, expecting it to be this really bossy Slayer Kennedy, who likes to call us out of bed for midnight drills, but it turned out to be five girls from our Slayer group. They were all older than Jasmina and me, so even though I had been doing really well in training, they made me a bit nervous.

"Hi, girls," said one of them, Kerry, stepping into our room. Kerry is short, but athletic, with long brown hair that she always wears in a pony tail. She's definitely the most outgoing of the group, and is a distant fighter.

Sheila followed Kerry into the room. "We thought we'd take you shopping. You know, Slayers get a stipend for trendy leather slaying clothing, and we know all the best stores."

Well, that explained the clothes everyone seemed to be wearing. Sheila was the most trendy, but all the girls looked like they had just stepped out of the pages of _Seventeen_. Truth to tell, Jasmina and I had been feeling a bit self-conscious about our work-out sweats and sneakers.

Sheila's best friend Chan Juan nodded. She's Chinese and doesn't speak much English, but she and Sheila are dibbly close. Apparently, they bonded silently over their mutual love of fashion.

Jasmina and I agreed instantly (well, I did. Jasmina was too shy to speak) and the seven of us set out. On the way to the shops, I chatted with the last two girls in the group, Michelle and Dierdre. They were both really sweet. Since she knows what it's like to be shy Michelle made sure to take Jasmina under her wing, and it turns out Dierdre is an honest-to-God California girl!

Actually, that surprised me a bit, because she has brown hair, not blonde (she says she's part Hispanic) and didn't seem to mind that we were shopping for leather, neither of which seemed very Californiaish to me. And I should know as I spent a week there.

Pretty soon, though, we were having so much fun that I forgot about everything else and just enjoyed spending time with my new friends.

We made it back to the Academy late that night, all loaded down with shopping bags filled with tons of shiny clothes (shiny is a word my new friends use to mean cool. Isn't that dibble. . . I mean, winny?).

As we entered the dorm section of the buildings, Michelle glanced at Kerry.

"Do you think they're ready?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Kerry replied. "Girls," she pointed at Jasmina and me, "Come to Chan Juan's room.

Chan Juan said something in Chinese, which I'm really going to have to start studying, and then pushed open her door. Kerry shepherded us inside, while Dierdre began lighting candles around the room (now _that's_ the California Girl I'm used to).

Sheila turned out the lights and Kerry took out a pretty pink notebook decorated with pictures of girls slaying demons.

"This girls," she said, in a very important voice, "is the notebook of the Super Slayers Club. It's where we record all our slaying jobs so that the others can learn from them. Tonight, we are going to induct _you _into the club." I glanced over at Jasmina. She looked just as excited as I was.

Kerry continued. "Put your right hands on the notebook, and repeat after me. 'I promise to be good and reliable slayers and to be true to the Super-Slayers Club forevermore." We did as she instructed.

"I now pronounce you junior officers in the Super-Slayers Club," said Kerry.

Everyone cheered and Michelle even wiped tears from her eyes. The girls were really accepting us! This was _wriggle!_

Chan Juan ordered Chinese food, and we all toasted by clanging our chopsticks together. It was super delish.

Who knew I'd be lucky enough to make such a great group of friends so quickly? Coming to the Academy had been my best decision ever.


	9. Jessi 2

A/N: I haven't done this yet, so this is a thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story. Special thanks goes to **McKay1 **who's reviewed almost every chapter. It's noticed and appreciated!

_Dear Quint,_

_I'm still in London, and it's a great city, but it's not all I thought it would be. I haven't even seen a ballet yet (or been invited to audition for one). I'm working really hard, though. I can't tell you any details now, but hopefully I'll be able to someday. _

_Your friend,_

_Jessi_

I knew my postcard to my sort-of-boyfriend Quint sounded pretty lukewarm, but I was too depressed to summon up much enthusiasm. I had been training as a Slayer for almost a week now, and I _still_ hadn't gotten any Slayer powers. Nor had anyone observed me training and noticed how talented I was.

I was keeping up with my barre practice, just in case the Slayer thing didn't work out, but nobody had seen me at that and invited me to a London audition, either. Worst of all, the stupid exchange rate meant I didn't even have enough money with me to go _see _a ballet at Covent Gardens. (I even got desperate enough to try to borrow some from Claudia, but apparently she was getting paid in some kind of weird gold coins that the ticket agencies don't take).

This was _not _how my vacations were supposed to work.

I'm nothing if not dedicated (you can ask my dance teacher about that), so even though I was depressed about my lack of progress, I refused to give up. I knew from all those fantasy novels Mallory and I read that it's usually when you're most discouraged that the fairy godmother shows up to grant your wish. I don't think there was anyone more in need of a fairy godmother than me those days.

I kept my training a secret from the BSC. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about being a Slayer; discretion is usually part of what's being tested in situations like these. Besides, the other girls were so wrapped up in their own projects, that it wasn't very difficult. Nobody batted an eye when I told them each morning that I was off to find Mallory. Well, Kristy did, but it was less batting _an _eye than it was rolling both eyes and lecturing me about my responsibilities. That's pretty much reflexive for her, though, so I didn't pay much attention.

After our first couple of days at the Academy, I fell into a routine. I started each morning with my ballet practice – it kept me flexible and limber. Besides, I could do that in Angel's apartment and nobody would be surprised if they caught me at it. When Kristy got up, I trained with her. She was always doing something to stay in shape for the Krusher's and that junior slayer squad she had founded. Why she needed to stay in shape to work out with three year olds was beyond me, but I've found with Kristy it's usually better not to ask.

By the time Kristy and I had finished our workout, Angel had finished making breakfast. He made breakfast _every_ morning. He seemed to think it was part of providing for us properly. Honestly, I thought it was a little strange, especially since he never ate any of it. Hello, we're thirteen (well, except for me) and dibbly responsibly baby-sitters . We _can_ grab a bowl of cereal by ourselves.

I shouldn't complain as it was actually very sweet of him, but the meals were pretty awkward. Probably because I was so focused on my Slayer training, thirty minutes every morning of listening to Mary Anne and Kristy and Claudia chatter on about their own projects was just painful, especially since I couldn't mention mine, and double especially since theirs were going so much _better_ than mine.

Especially Claudia. Was I the only one who had noticed that she was selling her fashion designs to _evil demons_? Weren't we supposed to be on the _other_ side? Sheesh. You wouldn't think you'd have to be a Slayer to work that one out.

Anyway, after breakfast I snuck off to a quiet practice room where I had hidden the weapons I borrowed from Angel. Kristy and I had found his storage closet while he was out one evening, and I had come back later that night when everyone was asleep to borrow a sword, a dagger, a crossbow, and a quarterstaff. He had so many, I was sure he wouldn't notice, and besides, I'm sure he'd think it was Kristy anyway. (She claims she's training her kids with Nerf weapons, but we all have our doubts).

I spent the rest of the morning running drills I from the books I'd borrowed from the library (really late at night to make sure Mary Anne wouldn't see me), and I usually spent the afternoon reading up on demons and magic. Just so I have a well-rounded Slayer education. Actually, I'm really good at demonic languages – I suppose that's not surprising, since I'm good at human languages too.

I stuck to my routine for a week, and even though it was dull, I refused to give up hope. I was getting a _bit_ better with the crossbow after all.

On our seventh day in London, however, everything broke down. I was working through a staff routine I had found in an old book, and I was doing pretty well, if I do say so myself. Maybe I didn't have the power of a Slayer, but my dancer's training helped me remember the moves and execute them gracefully. I watched myself in the mirrored walls as I worked, making small corrections to the position of my feet and arms.

I was deep into the exercise when the sounds of giggling coming from outside the room disturbed my concentration.

"We can't use the _library_, Kerry," said a cheerful, girlish voice. "The Watchers are always clustered in there for a conference."

"Well, what about an empty practice room? Nobody ever uses that one on the end," another girl answered.

The one on the end was mine, and the girl was right; nobody else had come in since I started using it. I decided I'd play this one straight – there were too many Slayers here to know every one on sight. They'd come in, see I was practicing, and go find another room without disturbing me. At least, I hoped.

The giggling drew closer. I concentrated very hard on my staff exercises, pretending I didn't notice, and I kept going even when I heard the door open behind me.

"Jessi?" asked an astonished voice behind me. I spun around, and there, in the center of a crowd of seven girls, was Mallory.

And she was wearing leather pants.

Mallory stared at me for a moment, and then her face relaxed. "Oh, you're doing some sort of dance thing, aren't you? No problem, there are other rooms." The other girls nodded, and then headed out the door. Mallory turned to follow them.

"Wait!" I shouted after her. Who _was_ this girl? "How're things going? How's training? How're the other Slayers?"

"Oh, they _great_," she said casually, "just _wriggle._" Wriggle? Why would Mallory be using a stupid word like that?

"Well, do you want to hang out? Maybe we could spar. I'm practicing the quarterstaff." I knew I shouldn't have said that. It was violating the secrecy ban. But all of a sudden, I was desperate to find some way to belong in Mallory's world. She looked so adult and so distant (like "far away", not "chilly"). For the first time ever, _I _felt like the immature one.

"Wait, you mean that _wasn't_ a dance move?" she asked, laughing. "But Jessi, you're not a Slayer. I'd demolish you. Anyway, the girls and I, we're the Super Slayers Club, and we have a Top Secret Meeting," she giggled and covered her mouth, "Oops, I shouldn't even have told you about it."

I couldn't take it anymore. The last week of constant practice and stress and worry. I was working so hard, and Mallory had new friends and a little clubhouse. I just _snapped. _

"How dare you!" I shouted, "You come in here with your new clothes and your new friends, and you think you're better than me? You think I can't do you in any day of the week at anything I choose? You think it shouldn't be me standing there in your place?" I ran out of breath and things to say and stopped abruptly, panting. I'm not used to this; usually in the BSC we leave the screaming to Kristy and Dawn.

I was expecting Mallory to yell back, to tell me I had no right to underestimate her and that I was arrogant and mean and a horrible friend. I deserved it, I thought.

But instead she just looked at me, and then rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine." She picked up a smaller staff from the corner of the room that I had used in my earlier practices. "Just to the first fall, though. I really am late."

Her casual tone just gave me an inexplicable urge to slap her. Instead, I lunged at her, trying to figure out how I could apply those drills to a real fight. Mallory held back, looking bored.

I lunged again, and she spun around, so she was facing away from me, and then flipped backwards, over my head, and landed behind me.

Before I had time to react, she had hit me from behind, just hard enough to knock me over and send my staff skittering across the floor. I sat there, too stunned to move.

"Really, Jessi," Mallory said with another eye roll, "you're a good dancer and you're good at, you know, sign language and stuff. Really, there's no need to try your hand at Slaying, too."

She walked past me, towards the exit. Right before she reached the door, she turned and added, "Listen, I'm pretty busy right now, but we really should hang out next week or something. I'll get your number from B." Before I could respond (not that I had any response to make), she was out the door.

I had never been so humiliated in my life. Stupid girl, I thought, too caught up in your fantasies of being a Slayer to pay attention to the fight she had already shown you. Convinced that _you _were the one with the destiny.

I felt tears run down my cheek, and I wiped them away. I _never _cried.

But this was different; it was like my purpose had been stripped away. Like I would have felt if, a few months ago, somebody has told me I could never dance again.

I wondered if there was something I could do, some way to prove to Mallory and everyone else, that I still mattered. I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes, stored my weapons in the room's little closet, and headed for the library. It was time to go see Mary Anne.


	10. Mary Anne 2

_Dear Logan_,

Hello again from London! We're over half-way through our time here. Can you believe it? Except for missing you, we've been so busy it's practically flown by. In fact, I may even be home before you get this! Can't wait to see you!

_XOXOXOXOXO,_

_Mary Anne_

Okay, so my letter to Logan wasn't as enthusiastic and informative as a letter to your far-distant boyfriend _should _be, but I _was_ awfully busy. Mystical objects were disappearing from antique stores and museums all over town, and Giles was convinced the thefts were related. I was helping to research what all the items could be used for, and there was so much information that I was spending almost all my waking hours in the library.

But it was so engrossing that I didn't mind at all! Besides, it felt great to be doing something useful, like Mallory.

I have to admit, though, that part of my willingness to work such long hours was that I wasn't finding the other BSC members much fun. To be honest, I hadn't talked to them much since we arrived. Everyone was so focused on their own pursuits – Kristy on her Slayer Squad, Claudia on her Demon Designs, Stacey on Angel, Dawn and Jessi on . . .

Actually, come to think of it, I wasn't sure _what _Dawn and Jessi were up to. Jessi was walking around looking like her best friend had died (hmm. . . I hadn't seen Mallory lately either), and Dawn had taken to wearing a lot of black and grinning incessantly. I guess black dye is better for the environment or something.

Occasionally I felt a bit guilty for not paying more attention to my friends, but my big breakthrough in the library drove it all out of my mind.

It came at lunchtime one day when almost the entire senior Academy staff was gathered in the library for a meeting about the thefts. We had already figured out that the unknown thief had all the materials he needed to get past our anti-demon barriers and that made everyone nervous. We needed to figure out what the other items were for.

I had been there all day, of course, and was sitting in the back with a book. (I know I'm very useful, but I try to stay out of the way at staff meetings – all those important people bring back my old shyness). The library was especially full today because Buffy, Faith and Spike were there. They're not normally big with the books, as Willow says.

Giles had had sandwiches delivered, and everyone was making small talk, when Angel stormed in. He walked straight up to Spike, looking furious.

"You. Me. Outside," he shouted, his hands formed in fists.

I looked at Spike nervously, but he just looked amused and started to stand up. Giles, rolling his eyes, gestured for him to sit back down.

"Oh, come on, Angel. We hardly have time for your school boy rivalry today," he said with a strange mixture of sternness and amusement.

"_He,_" Angel gestured dramatically at Spike, "has _set me up_." At this, Faith made a strange choking sound, while Xander hastily took a bite of his sandwich.

"And how has he done this?" Giles inquired, obviously trying to cover his own smirk.

"Those girls! They're impossible!" He seemed to notice I was in the room, and glanced over at me. "I'm sorry, Mary Anne," he said more calmly, "You're a very nice girl. But one of them is _stalking_ me. And she stole my _hair gel_!"

Faith and Spike were snickering openly now.

"Oh, umm, that would be Stacey," I said apologetically, "she does tend to do things like that. But don't worry, she'll be over it in a week or two."

"Besides," Spike said cheerfully, "I thought you liked the little blonde ones. She did mention she was trying out for the cheerleading squad."

Buffy glared at him, then turned to glare at Angel. "Don't even think about it," she told him sharply.

Angel opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Giles. "The girl has been informed of your vampiric nature, and of, shall we say, the romantic limitation inherent in that, hasn't she?"

Angel shot me an embarrassed look. "Well, I, umm, hadn't gotten around to mentioning the, umm, vampire thing yet. They're mostly nice girls, you know?"

The rest of the room turned and looked at me, apparently expecting me to be shocked. "Oh, I know all about it," I said cheerfully, "there's a whole book in this library on Angelus, and tons of prophecies too." It had been fascinating reading, and the story of how he lost his soul when he experienced a moment of happiness had brought me to tears (I'm such a sap.)

I met Angel's eyes, "I think it's very good you're seeking your redemption for all those years of torturing and killing people, you know."

Normally, I wouldn't be so forward, but if there's one thing I learned as a babysitter it's that you have to encourage good behavior (seeking redemption, in this case) and discourage bad behavior (murdering people and drinking their blood). As such, I'm never shy about expressing my moral beliefs.

"Well, that settles it," Giles said, "Mary Anne will simply inform this Stacey that you are an aged vampire, if she has not done so already, and that will take care of the problem."

"Didn't work so well in the past," Spike muttered under his breath. Angel and Buffy both turned to glare at him.

I hated to refuse Giles's request, but I had to speak up. "I'm sorry," I said, more shyly now, "You should have seen what happened when I told her the lifeguard at Sea City was too old for her. She was mad at me for a whole _week_."

"Well, then," Spike said jovially to Angel, "Looks like this one is up to you. Can I watch?"

Angel glared and tightened his palms into fists again. Faith rolled her eyes. "Sit down and get some coffee. Apparently, we're in trouble."

Giles nodded. "It does look that way. The last remaining Orb of Theokrades was stolen from the British Museum this morning by unknown persons. It's not especially valuable on the antiquities black market, not by British Museum standards, at any rate, but it's power is enormous. Unfortunately, we're not sure quite what that power can be used for – it's a very mysterious item."

The Orb of Theokrades? I had just seen that! While the conference continued, I picked up the second-to-last book I had leafed through and turned to the index. There it was, on page 274. I read the text and felt my blood run cold.

"Angel?" I asked softly. Something in my tone must have betrayed my fear, because the entire room went silent. "Are you sure it was Stacey who stole your hair gel?"

"Well, no," he said, "I just assumed she wanted a souvenir. Why?" He sounded a bit defensive at being questioned, but I ignored it. This wasn't the time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark figure enter the library – on closer inspection, it was Jessi. How strange. I drew my attention back to the matter at hand and continued:

"Because you have to have a personal item from someone to make the Orb of Theokrades work," I said hesitantly, almost hoping I was mistaken, "and when you do, it's part of what you need to remove that person's soul"

Frenzied conversation broke out. "Stop!" shouted Giles. "Mary Anne, does that book have a list of what else you'd need?" I nodded, and he walked over and took it from me.

"Alright, all of these items are easily obtainable or have been stolen but one. A dragon's tooth. That's not easy to come by, and it's very expensive."

"Umm," said Spike, "There's a bloke down on Harrington St. who should have one." In answer to a room's worth of querying stares he continued, "I pick up some blood from him everyone once in a while. It makes a nice change from pig."

"You drink _dragons_?" Willow asked, frowning. "But they're kind of cute. . ."

Buffy stood up, cutting off any reply. "I," she said, "am going to set my senior Slayers checking out the other likely sources. That can't be the only one in the city. You and Angel go stake out your source, Spike." They both opened their mouths to protest.

"Shut it. This thief is dangerous and effective. We need our manpower focused." She turned and walked out of the room; Faith, Angel, and Spike followed. Jessi slipped out behind them. I'd have to catch up with her later and see what she was up to. Maybe there was a book I could help her find (I always want to be helpful).

Xander turned to me as they left. "Good work!" he said, "You're a born Watcher for sure!"

I grinned. That was even _cooler_ than being a babysitter.


	11. Dawn 2

_Dear Jeff,_

Hope you're having fun in Stoneybrook. It's too bad I missed you, but I'll probably see you in California later this summer. Which reminds me, does Dad still have that friend who's a lawyer? I'd really appreciate if you could check for me, just in case. BUT BE SUBTLE.

_Love,_

_Dawn_

I didn't really think I'd need a lawyer, but as a radical activist I know there's always a chance of coming into contact with the law. I guess I could make a pretty dibble statement by being a prisoner of conscious like Nelson Mandela, but on the other hand, it's hard to carry out revolutionary acts from prison. That's why I wrote to Jeff.

It was still an annoying hoop to jump through, though. I mean, Drusilla has really made me realize how stale our bourgeois legal system is. It's so, like, hegemonic to act like you know what's "right" and "wrong".

That's why, in addition to helping free dozens, maybe even hundreds, of innocent pigs from Angel and Spike's oppression, we're deconstructing the imperialistic Western notion of property rights! Pretty dibble, huh?

Drusilla had been giving me missions almost every day and I was carrying them out with my usual flair, if I do say so myself. In fact, I was getting better each day. Yesterday, I had liberated this ancient Celtic orb from the British Museum, which was distant because the Anglo-Saxon inhabitants of the United Kingdom just have no right to keep spiritual artifacts stolen by the Roman oppressor on display.

I had had some close calls before, but this job turned out to be a piece of cake. The M'Fashnik demons Drusilla hired created a diversion, and while the guards were distracted I was small enough to slip right under the security system lasers and break the glass display case. Drusilla had been really pleased. She never says anything, but when my eyes meet hers, I just _know_. And I know what the next job she wants me to do is, too. We have a real connection.

The next day, though, I felt a bit wistful. That was because my next job would be my last for Drusilla. Today's acquisition would allow Drusilla to complete her plan, and even though I was totally excited about seeing that, I'd miss all the cool activist work I was doing. Maybe I could start a similar plan back in Stoneybrook. . .there were probably blood drinkers there; God knows, there were certainly meat eaters.

Come to think of it, I realized, I still wasn't entirely sure how Drusilla's plan was going to work. I shrugged. It didn't seem so important. Probably just a magical detox. I hoped it was more effective than the non-magical ones my mom's friends were always disappearing to.

Anyway, we never carried out our missions until after dark, so the day after the Orb was stolen I had a long evening of waiting in Angel's apartment. I picked at my dinner (eggs _again_), too distracted to comment much. Fortunately, Mary Anne was talking enough for the both of us, although I didn't quite catch what about. Actually, only Jessi seemed to be listening, and thank God for that, because she asked so many questions that I was off the hook entirely.

I was still sleeping on the couch in the living room, so it was easy to sneak out after everyone else was in bed. The night air was cool and my black ski mask was welcome for warmth as well as camouflage. I stuck to the shadows, staying out of view. I didn't have much back-up tonight and it wouldn't do for me to be spotted. It wasn't long before I reached Harrington St. and my target came into view

I had cased the place in the daytime, of course, so I knew exactly my plan of attack and stayed out of sight. Still, I'm very impatient and I always worry while I'm waiting, so I was relieved when I saw the flash of blue light that was our pre-arranged signal. The M'Fashniks had shown up.

When I heard the shatter of glass, I crept forwards. I knew that if anyone was watching I didn't have much time. It only took me a moment to pick the lock - another useful skill Drusilla had taught me. She muttered something about learning it from dinner once (I politely didn't point out that she meant _over_ dinner; it must be a British thing). Meanwhile, the M'Fashnik demons were ravaging the rare coin shop next door. Anyone who was watching would be drawn to them and away from me.

It worked perfectly. I was in and out with the dragon's tooth before the noise from next door had ceased. Curious, I glanced over. It looked like our security precautions had been necessary. The demons were engaged in a fierce battle with a small, slender figure. Had a Slayer caught on to us?

The figure shifted positions and my jaw dropped. The demons were fighting _Jessi_. And she seemed to be holding her own. Fascinated, I ducked behind a mailbox to watch. Should I interfere? Drusilla wouldn't be very happy if her M'Fashnik's got hurt. But then, she hadn't taught me fighting yet. I didn't think I'd do any good.

As it turned out, it wouldn't have mattered. The element of surprise only got Jessi so far, and after a moment the demons gained the upper hand. As she struggled to reload her crossbow, one of them pushed her to the ground, while the other stood raised his axe.

Before he could swing, two figures emerged from behind and came crashing down, pulling the demons to the floor. Almost simultaneously, they snapped the M'Fashniks' necks, leaving them motionless. They turned to face Jessi, and I saw their faces. Spike and Angel.

It figures those two would have as little respect for demon life as they do for animal. And they were both wearing leather coats. I couldn't wait for Dru to bring her spell off. Talk about heartless.

I should have left then while they were still distracted, but I was as curious about what Jessi was doing as they were. They stared at her for a moment and then all three broke into angry conversation:

"Bloody hell, aren't you one of those girls Angel keeps in his apartment," shouted Spike, "Would you mind telling us what you're doing here."

"Do I need to lock you girls in Nina's cage," yelled Angel, and then to Spike, "I do not keep them in my apartment; _you _keep them in my apartment."

"I could have taken them, if I had just had a minute," Jessi retorted angrily, and then, suddenly, she burst into tears. Angel and Spike looked slightly taken aback.

"I just wanted to prove I could be a Slayer," she said in between sobs, "but I've been training for a week now and I'm _still _no good. And Mallory has all these new Slayer friends and they have a club and she says it's _wriggle_!"

She was sitting up now and Angel patted her shoulder awkwardly, shooting a panicked glance at Spike, who rolled his eyes and took over. "Listen here," he told her sternly, "being a Slayer is definitely not all its cracked up to be. To be honest, most of them are pretty self-righteous. They give these long, melodramatic speeches. And, you know, some of them pulled Angel and I out of a spot of trouble in Los Angeles about a year ago and they've never let us forget it. It's all 'Hey pretty boy, need someone to do your dragon killing today?' and "Watch out! There's forces of darkness behind you! Made you look!'"

Angel glared at him. "What Spike is _trying _to say is that there are plenty of other important things you can do. Really, lots of other people do good work. I mean, look at your friend Mary Anne."

Jessi had stopped sobbing, but this made her start again. (I couldn't blame her; Mary Anne may be my step-sister, but man has she been boring lately.) "But I don't _want_ to spend all day in a library. I want to _do _something. . ." her voice trailed off in sobs. Honestly, I had a hard time feeling much sympathy. After all, Jessi had spent _years_ rejecting my advice about an environmentally sustainable diet and she insists on commuting all the way to Stamford for dance lessons _by car_. And _now_ she wants to do something important?

"Little Bit," Spike broke in wearily, "we'll set you up as an apprentice to the most powerful person at the Academy. Will that work?"

Jessi looked up at him. "Really?"

"Really. Now can we _please_ figure out why the hell those demons robbed a bloody coin shop?" Hmm, I didn't need him speculating about that. Although, really, there was nothing he could do at this point. I suppressed a snicker.

Angel had wandered off, and at this, he kicked open the door of the magic shop. "It's open," he said, "I'll bet anything that coin shop attack was just a diversion."

Spike looked at Jessi. "Still want to do something useful?" he asked. She nodded vigorously. "Come on. You're going to help us comb this store for a dragon's tooth." She struggled to her feet and they followed Angel into the store. I decided this was my cue to leave.

I crept off into the darkness, clasping the dragon's tooth to me. Drusilla would be most pleased.


	12. Kristy 2

_Dear Karen,_

_Hope you're having fun in Stoneybrook, and keeping in condition for my return (remember, you should be doing 100 sit-ups and 100 push-ups every day). When I come back we'll play Let's All Come In. I have some totally dibble new material._

_Kristy_

Karen Brewer is my step-sister who only lives with us on alternate weekends (don't ask; my family is _really_ complicated). We've become really close though, and not only is she my sister, she's one of my favorite charges! I felt a bit guilty writing to her and not giving her all the details, because I knew she'd love it here. She has such an imagination that witches, Slayers, and demons would be no problem to her.

But security is security, and I would never disclose confidential information. Loose lips sink ships, you know.

I decided, though, that I'd put Karen and some of the other girls I sit for on a strict training regimen when I got back. You never knew who'd be called as a Slayer and some of them really needed some toughening up. Especially Charlotte Johannsen. I didn't think she'd last five minutes in a dark alley with a Thurgordian Slime Demon. Stacey was _way _to easy on her.

All these thoughts were going through my head at breakfast and, as usual, I had plenty of time to think about them because everyone else was in their own little world. In fact, Dawn, Jessi and Mary Anne all had suspiciously huge smiles on their faces. Stacey was staring at Angel, which meant that she too had a huge smile on her face, although not a suspicious one. We all knew _exactly_ what Stacey was thinking (well, maybe Jessi didn't – you don't do those lessons until 7th grade health class).

Claudia, on the other hand, was talking a mile a minute about some commission that had to be finished by today. Apparently she was almost out of sequins, which given her outfit, wasn't surprising. Today, she had decided to do an homage to one of the most tragic parts of English history, the Black Death, which I guess her sister Janine was taking a college class on (Janine being a certified genius drives Claudia crazy but, as she says, an artist can't afford to waste inspiration, regardless of the source). She was wearing a tight black jumpsuit with blue sequined spots that represented bruising, and under her arm she had made a huge papier mache buboe. Continuing the motif, she had sequined the blood and puss draining from the buboe too.

Normally, I think Claudia's outfits are a waste of time that could be spent babysitting and money that could be spent filling her Kid Kit, but I had to admit that this one was pretty distant. Claudia said she was trying to represent pain and suffering through her art. She can be really deep that way.

After breakfast, Stacey, Claud and I headed towards the daycare center (not that Claudia was any use – her Demononic Designs office just happened to be in the same room). I had learned that the secret of getting Stacey's help was to ask her in front of Angel; she didn't want to look irresponsible in front of him and had decided that in order to get his attention she had to match his 'commitment to duty.' I was in desperate need of a second instructor. With Stacey there, I could work the kids in smaller groups.

Unsurprisingly, however, my plan didn't last five minutes into the day.

I was lining up my A squad (actually, I called them "Bear Squad" – I wouldn't want to damage anyone's self-esteem by ranking them) for the first lesson of the day when I heard shouts from the back of the room. Assuming they were coming from my B squad, I turned around to shush them. For once, though, it wasn't the kids.

"You can't take my red glitter!" Claudia was shouting from the back room, almost in tears. "I _needed_ that. I'm making open sores today."

Stacey emerged from the office, carrying a little glitter jar and some red construction paper. "You know, Claud," she said, in a deceptively sweet voice, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You realize that boys just aren't attracted to girls who dress like _plague victims_, don't you?"

Claudia looked furious. "You . ..you hater." She advanced towards Stacey.

I rolled my eyes. "Bear Squad – GO!" I hadn't been training these kids non-stop for a week for nothing. They sprang into the dual attacker formation we had practiced, and a split second later, the right flank had pinned Stacey while the left flank had pinned Claudia.

I signaled to a member of Fish Squad standing on the sidelines, and she removed the glitter from Stacey's hands and brought it to me.

"Kristy," she said, clearly annoyed, "I just wanted to teach the kids how to make Valentines."

"Even I know Valentines Day isn't till March," interrupted Claudia angrily.

I ignored them both. "Remove intruder," I barked to Bear Squad. They escorted Stacey out, and I motioned them to return Claudia to her office. Fish Squad even returned her red glitter before locking the door.

This was extremely disappointing. I suppose I should have known I couldn't count on Stacey to be helpful. Still, another instructor would be nice. The kids could do so much more with extra attention. . .

We started drilling again and I was so focused that I almost didn't notice the figure standing in the doorway, but the tight bodysuit caught my eye. "Not Stacey _again_," I groaned, ready to order Centipede Squad off the benches and into action.

The door opened, and the flash of blue tipped me off. It wasn't Stacey, it was Illyria!

"In my day," she intoned emotionlessly, "warriors began training as soon as they could hold a sword. I see you are reviving that tradition. It will bring you great power. I would like to help."

I was so surprised that all I could do was nod. Immediately, Illyria begin arranging the children into a formation so complicated I knew I'd never have thought of it.

We had another instructor and she was _good_. My mind raced as I thought of all the things Illyria could help us accomplish.

And then I felt a familiar sensation. Was it? Yes, it was! A Great Idea! A slow smile spread across my space. This was going to be my dibblest plan of all.


	13. Claudia 2

_Deer Ashly,_

_Qe pasa, gurl? Youd be so prood of me hear. I'm takeing my art to a hole new leval! I think Im relly capptooring the pane and sufering of are genurashin! _

_Yur freind,_

_Clodia_

After the nasty altercation I had with Stacey in the morning, it was a relief to get back to work. It didn't take me too long to finish off the Plagueings (as we were calling our open sore stirrup pants), and when I was done I had the entire rest of the day to work on my commission for Drusilla.

This amulet was like nothing I had ever done. It made the other work I was doing look like the daycare students' arts and crafts projects (or what they'd look like if Kristy ever let them stop drilling long enough to do arts and crafts).

I had decided to work in papier mache. It's a medium I use a lot, but that's okay because it's so versatile. A lot of times I find mache work goes pretty quickly, but this had taken me hours and hours. Precision was really important to me.

That morning, though, I had started to worry. The papier mache was done, but I hadn't even started the colors yet, and Drusilla was coming to collect it at moonrise tomorrow. I had been planning on using a lime green and orange puff paint motif, but looking at it, that didn't seem right. It needed something . . . something special.

My mind raced. Should I add some elegance with the daycare girls' Pretty, Pretty Princess gems? Or maybe break out the black and white sequins for a jazzy twenties feel?

No, none of it felt quite right. I let out a sigh. I didn't like what I was going to have to do, but I didn't have a choice. It was time for my last resort.

I was going to the library.

I took the long way around, stopping by the cafeteria for a mid-morning Twizzlers pick-me-up. I'll tell you, it never fails to amaze me how versatile Twizzlers are. By the time I reached the library, the sugar and artificial coloring coursing through my veins had lightened even the prospect of doing several hours of book research (although I still shuddered at the thought).

Unfolding the picture Drusilla had given me, I pushed open the door.

As soon as I saw what was inside, I jumped in surprise. There was a whole group of people having a meeting! I mean, I knew Mary Anne had been doing research (ick), but it hadn't occurred to me that she actually spent all her time in the _library _(double ick).

"What are you doing here?" Mary Anne asked me, her eyes widening with surprise. She, Jessi, Giles, Angel, Spike and some people I didn't know were sitting at a conference table in the center of a room.

Wait a minute. This was perfect – play my cards right and I wouldn't have to do any research at all! I passed her the picture. She gave it a cursory glance before passing it around the table.

"I have an extremely important artistic commission and I need historic color data points to triangulate the, umm, project," I stated proudly. There! I sounded just like Janine. That should get me some research help.

Giles removed his glasses and wiped them on his shirt. "I beg your pardon?" he asked me, wearing the same dazed expression I do when Janine talks to me. It was working!

Jessi, on the other hand, just looked suspicious. "You guys do remember that all her clients are _evil_, don't you?" Jessi always had been judgmental. Man, she had spent _weeks_ taking cracks at us all for being involved in that Little Miss Stoneybrook pageant. Jealousy, I call it.

I didn't get a chance to respond because Spike jumped out of his chair with a yelp as soon as the photo reached him. He passed it to Angel, who cradled his head in his hands.

"What?" asked several people in unison.

"It's bloody Drusilla," Spike groaned.

"Didn't we kill her at some point?" asked a redhead cheerfully

"We must have," put in the man with an eye patch (ooh, I want one) sitting next to her, "I mean, she showed up off-and-on for _years_."

"Last time _I _saw her," Spike said, glaring at Angel, "she was heading down _your_ way."

"Umm," Angel tried to avoid making eye contact with the many sets of eyes that were suddenly focused on him. "I might, uh, have let her eat a bunch of lawyers and then escape. I was kind of having a bad week."

"Somehow, shock escapes me," Giles said with a roll of his eyes. "How do you know Drusilla is involved anyhow?"

"This was her favorite necklace," Spike said nostalgically, staring off into the distance, "I gave it to her for Christmas back in '83. We spent it in London."

"Of course," Angel added, smirking at Spike, "it didn't become her _favorite _necklace until _after_ she smeared it with the blood of that chimney sweep I gave her."

Blood. Of course! That's what all my decorative schemes had been missing!

"What happened to it?" asked Mary Anne interestedly.

Spike glared at Angel. "Twenty years later, soul boy here stole it, melted it down, and then gave the gold to orphans. It was disgusting."

"This is all very fascinating," Giles broke in, "but if this is Drusilla. . ."

"It definitely is," I said, feeling that I probably owed them in exchange for the blood tip, "at least, that's what she told me her name was. Long hair, ornate dress, doesn't make much sense. . ."

"That's her," said everyone at once, except Jessi who muttered "I _told_ you all her clients were evil." I ignored her.

"Well, then," Giles continued, "it appears that _she_ is the one behind this plot to steal your soul, Angel."

"We always did have a connection, I thought," Angel told Spike.

"Oh please, she's probably taking my soul too," Spike said irritatedly. "We did spend over a hundred years together, you know."

"Well, are you missing any personal items?" asked the redhead.

He coughed. "Just, umm, a bottle of . . .uh."

"Out with it," snapped Giles.

"Umm. Hair bleach." Several people giggle, and Spike spun his head trying to glare at all of them. Giles continued:

"That would certainly, do it, yes."

"She's picking up the necklace at tomorrow," I said, "if you're done with me here, I really need to go back and finish it." They had been very helpful, but realistic blood splatters are neither quick nor easy.

Giles stretched out his hand and fixed me with a _look_. I sighed, and handed him the necklace. And Clem had told me we were getting paid in Russian Longhairs for this one too (I'm not sure why Russian currency is so valuable, but he was so happy that it must be.)

I heard the door open and glanced behind me. Stacey had slipped in and taken the closest available seat to Angel. She smiled toothily at him and he edged his chair away.

"I know this one!" exclaimed eye patch guy. "We'll nab her when she comes for the necklace. Right?" He looked around, waiting for others to agree.

"Not so easy, Xan," sighed the redhead. "The night before the full moon is best for a spell like this. She'll probably do it tonight and pick the necklace up as a prize. An icky, blood stained prize." She grimaced, "On the bright side, it's a close range spell – she has to be on the grounds somewhere."

"Alright," said Giles, standing up and pointing at the redhead, "Willow, you get your department started on a magical counteraction." She nodded and left the room, Jessi following behind her. "Faith, I want Slayers patrolling the grounds and the perimeter."

"What about these two?" asked Faith, pointing at Spike and Angel, "As much fun as I had _last_ time Angel's soul went AWOL. . ."

"Good point," Giles nodded at her, "We must have a securely locking cage _somewhere_."

"We could use the one at my place," Angel volunteered, "I put it in for when my girlfriend comes to visit." A general snicker broke out. "Hey, stop that, I mean because she's a werewolf. . ."

His voice trailed off. At the mention of a "girlfriend," Stacey had burst into tears and fled from the room. Mary Anne and I exchanged glances. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Stacey was my best friend and I knew I should be there for her.

"I'll go after her," I volunteered, then stopped, "Umm, Mr. Giles, can I have that necklace back?"

"Very well," he handed it to me, "But for God's sake, stay away from Drusilla."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I was an artist not a fighter. As I left to find Stacey, I heard the others begin what promised to be a long argument about the best way to lock up Angel and Spike.


	14. Stacey 2

_Dear Mom,_

_Hi from London! I'll probably be home before you get this postcard, but I wanted to write anyway. That's Big Ben on the front. Isn't it pretty? _

_Anyway, London is great, but not as great as New York. I'm looking forward to coming home and seeing you again. Maybe we could go shopping when I get back!_

_Love,_

_Stacey_

I tried to put on a brave front in my post card home, but the truth is, I couldn't wait to leave. This trip had turned into a disaster. A disaster! I had spent more than a week flirting with Angel, wearing my cutest outfits, trying to impress him by helping Kristy and sitting in on library meetings, and what do I learn? That he has a _girlfriend_, and nobody even bothered to mention it to me.

I bet he wasn't even diabetic either. I felt so betrayed.

When I heard, I burst into tears and ran straight from the library. I hate it when that happens – I always try to be mature and sophisticated (as my upbringing taught me), but this time I just couldn't control myself. I LUVed him!

I ran blindly through the corridors looking for a quiet place to hide. Angel's apartment was out, obviously, and I wanted to avoid the Academy section too. I couldn't stand all those preppy little Slayers and their leather coats. I couldn't go to the daycare center either, for obvious reasons (typical Kristy).

I heard Claudia call me name and froze. I didn't have much hope if I wanted to get away, so I ducked into a hall closet. It wasn't very dignified, but I didn't feel like talking to Claudia right now. Not after the fight we had had that morning. The worst part of it was, she had been right. Those red sequins were much more suited to open sores than they were to Valentines.

I started crying again.

I sat down on the closet floor, and I think I must have cried myself to sleep, only to be woken up with a jolt when I heard my closet door open. The pretty blonde girl who had been at the library meeting stood in the doorway. I noticed her leather coat and crossbow and groaned inwardly. Not a Slayer!

"Aren't you one of those girls who lives with Angel?" she asked. The mention of his name brought tears to my eyes. "What's wrong?" she continued, alert, "Is it Angelus? Did he do something?"

Angelus? "No, it's _Angel_," I cried, "He has someone _else_."

She cocked her crossbow. "Where?"

"How would I know? She comes to _visit_. And stays in his _cage_," I sobbed.

"_Oh_," she said, suddenly enlighted, and lowered her crossbow. "You're talking about werewolf girl!"

Werewolf girl? Well, at least she was ugly. Maybe I had a chance after all. "Do you know her?"

"I've met her. Listen," she entered the closet and sat on an overturned bucket, "Angel and dating are like . . . two things that are very unmixy. He's, umm, special."

"But I'm special too! That's why we're soulmates!"

"Honey, at the moment you should be worrying about being lack-of-soul-mates." I looked at her blankly. Why did everyone talk so strangely here? It was totally stale.

The girl seemed to sense she wasn't getting through to me. "I need to go get our perimeter guards set up. You," she said firmly, pointing at me, "need to go to the auditorium with the others. Angel's locked up in his quarters, so you won't see him there. And when this is over, you two can have a heart-to-heart. I think there's some things he hasn't told you."

As she walked away, my mind raced. Clearly something major was going on. I tried to remember what everyone had been talking about in the library, but the girlfriend trauma had wiped it from my mind. Something about one of Claudia's new designs, I think. Well, I can certainly see why that might have created an emergency. Ick.

The last thing I wanted to do was go to the auditorium with everyone else. I could just imagine the BSC sleepover atmosphere, and it wasn't what I was in the mood for. I thought back to what Buffy had said. Angel was locked in a cage in his apartment.

Maybe we should have that heart-to-heart now, while everyone else was occupied. Yes, that was perfect! There's nothing like crisis to bring people together.

Whistling to myself, I set off down the hall away from the auditorium and towards Angel's apartment.

The door was locked but fortunately Spike had had keys made for all of us right after we moved in. I walked in and looked around at the empty apartment. The cage must be in Angel's room; I knew the rest of the apartment pretty well.

That door was locked too, but thankfully, when Spike was making keys he had done a complete set. I shoved open the door and was disappointed to find the room empty and cageless. I stood there for a minute, and then realized the sound of voices was coming from the closet.

That was annoying. Angel was supposed to be alone. But I had steeled my courage for a heart-to-heart talk, and a heart-to-heart talk we were going to have, alone or not. I walked across the room, and then paused with my hand on the doorknob. I did hope it wasn't the ugly werewolf girl in there with him. That could be awkward.

This door wasn't locked, and when I opened it, I was relieved to find that it was only Angel and Spike. They smiled when they saw me, and Angel laughed softly.

Hey, I don't think I had ever seen Angel laugh before. Maybe I had misheard the whole girlfriend thing – I mean, if I'm the only one who can make him smile, that must mean something, right?

"Hey, look," Spike told Angel when he saw me, "lunch!"

Spike's so funny. He always has a joke handy.

Angel shushed him. "Stacey, I'm so glad to see you! You have no idea how worried I was when you ran out of the library upset."

"Yeah, he was just broken up," Spike said, rolling his eyes. I liked Spike, but he really needed to learn how to be more romantic. Maybe Angel and I could set him up with someone, like that blonde Slayer. She had seemed bitter and in need of love.

"I think there's been a horrible misunderstanding," Angel said, his dreamy eyes meeting mine. "You see, this cage is really just for my friend that's a girl. She's a werewolf."

I was so silly. There was no way Angel would date a werewolf; he's far too attractive to date a girl with facial hair.

"So you really do like me?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Of course I do, schmoopsie!" replied Angel, with a silly grin on his face. "All I need is for you to take that key hanging up over there and unlock this cage, and I'll prove it to you!"

As glad as I was to hear this, that reminded me of something. "Why are you locked in a cage, Angel?" I asked him.

"It's the Slayers," he said earnestly. "They've gone rogue. You know Faith? She killed a Volcanologist, and that blonde girl is nothing but trouble."

Spike nodded. "Even burned down her high school gymnasium." Of course! That's why she was warning me away from Angel. He and Spike were the only people who could stop her! And I was going to free them and save the day!

I was in heaven. I had just _known_ this trip wouldn't end without me finding a boyfriend. That's just not the way my vacations work. I skipped over to the wall hook and took down the key he had pointed to. It was large and heavy and ornate.

I heard a snickering coming from the cage and turned around. Spike was sitting quietly in the corner and Angel was looking at me soulfully. I must have been imagining things.

Carefully, I inserted the key in the lock and turned. The door swung open, and Spike and Angel walked towards it.

"Angelus, think it's time for a snack?" Spike asked him, grinning. I was feeling a bit peckish, now that he mentioned it. I hope they had something sugar-free.

Angel smiled, baring his teeth, and I backed up a step, involuntarily. There was something in that smile I couldn't place.

I looked into his eyes, and then found myself screaming. There were ridges on his forehead, and from his mouth were protruding two long fangs. This couldn't be happening! Angel used to be a total hottie!

"Don't be afraid, little one," he said, as he moved towards me. "You're so cute I could just eat you up."

He grabbed hold of me, and I felt something sharp sink into my neck. The room spun around me and I screamed as loudly as I could, somehow knowing it wasn't likely to help.

Then, everything went dark.


	15. Mallory 3

_Mallory, Slayer of the Vampyres_

_The Slayer stood at the crypt's entrance, torn. It was her duty, nay, her sacred calling to destroy the beast within, but every fiber of her being called out to her, telling her to follow her heart. She entered, slowly, hesitantly._

"_Where art thou?" she called out in despair, clasping her hand to her bosom. "Art thou home?"_

"_I amst," came the answering voice. Throwing caution to the wind, they rushed towards each other. He took her in his arms and held her. She disappeared into him. They were as one._

_All night she lay with him, reveling in their love. She knew, though, that on the morn she would have no choice but to drive a stake through his heart. For how could a Slayer ever truly love a vampire?_

I didn't think much about my fight with Jessi at first. I had practice all afternoon, and after dinner we had a Super Slayers Club Super Secret Training Ritual that went way late. I was so busy, in fact, that the entire incident slipped from my mind.

It wasn't until the next evening that I had time to think. The older girls were off on a field exercise and Jasmina had gone to bed early (she never stays up late if we don't make her). As a result, I was left pretty much alone.

I worked on my Slayer book for a little while. It was going really well, (wriggly well, in fact), but somehow my heart just wasn't in it.

I glanced around my room, looking for something else to keep me occupied and my eye fell on _Misty of Chincoteague._ That's one of my all-time favorite books and I had brought it with me to read when I had free time.

This was the first chance I had to pick it up, however, and when I did I opened straight to my favorite part – where Paul first rides the Phantom. All of a sudden, though, tears started streaming down my face. That was Jessi's favorite part too!

Poor Jessi. I had gotten so caught up in being a Slayer, I had forgotten all about her. It's not her fault she's not one of the Chosen Ones! What had I done?

I resolved to search her out first thing tomorrow morning to apologize. Maybe she'd even let me teach her some shiny new fighting moves as a peace offering. Yeah, that would work. She may not be up to Slayer strength, but I'm sure she could be good enough to defeat a Muvoldian Spike Demon.

After that, I felt much better and it was only a few minutes before I was fast asleep.

I woke up the next morning and begin plotting my plan of attack. I decided right away not to catch her at Angel's apartment, partly because I didn't want to talk to her in front of everyone and partly because I found the whole thing kind of creepy – everyone knows Slayers aren't supposed to be friendly with vampires. I even had a whole chapter about it in my novel!

The daycare center was way too public too, and I wouldn't want to interfere with her job. No, I decided I'd stake her out in the practice room I'd seen her in. She had sure acted like she spent a lot of time there, and it was a corner of the building we weren't likely to be disturbed in.

I took my notebook and a pen to the practice room and prepared for a long stakeout. Unfortunately, I made a major tactical error in that I forgot to bring any food. By ten AM I was hungry; by three PM, I was starving. On the other hand, it was great inspiration (as a writer, I'm always on the lookout for inspiration), and I wrote several chapters in which my Slayer was stranded in a cave without food or water. It was dibbley winny.

Anyway, at about four I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I may not like to associate with a vampire, but if that's what I had to do to find Jessi, it was worth it. I set off down the long (and oddly deserted corridors) in the direction of Angel's apartment.

It took me a while to get there (actually, I got a bit lost), but eventually I reached his hallway, and who should I see but Claudia! She looked unusually panicked. I wondered if the cafeteria had run out of Pop Tarts or something.

"Mallory, thank God you're here. You have to help me find Stacey. She never made it to the auditorium!"

It was kind of incoherent, but I got the gist. "Have you checked Angel's apartment?" I asked, hoping maybe she'd seen Jessi there as well.

Claudia looked shocked. "No, she wouldn't go there. . ." she started to say, but was interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched scream coming from down the hall. We both sprinted towards the noise, and when we got there we found Angel's door askew. I kept Claudia behind me for her own protection, and we headed in the direction of the scream.

When I peered into the back room and saw what was inside, I gasped and Claudia squealed. Angel was in full-out vamp face, and he had sunk his teeth deep into Stacey's neck.

I started to rush forwards to attack, but before I could, Angel dropped Stacey and started spitting her blood out onto the carpet.

"Aack. Aack. Aack," he cried while spitting, "This is disgusting. It tastes like Kool Aid."

"Hey, I like Kool Aid," put in Claudia.

At the same time Spike, who had been lurking in the shadows, interjected, "It can't be that bad, pass it over here." He picked up Stacey's unconscious body and took a sip, "Oh bloody Hell. You're right. It's horrible. Did you fall for the old drugged bait trick again, Angelus?"

"It's probably because she's diabetic," I put in helpfully, "that means she has high-blood sugar."

"No doubt," Angel (Angelus?) replied, still sputtering a bit. "Are _you_ diabetic?" I didn't like the way he was looking at me, and remembered I was supposed to be attacking him. I tore the wooden leg off a nearby chair and rushed him.

"Oh no, not the antique furniture; that's Angel's favorite," he said sarcastically, fending me off easily. I moved forward again, and we traded blows.

"Listen," shouted Spike over the din, "as much as I'd love to stick around and munch on Little Miss Slayer here, I think we should find Drusilla and get out, before your afternoon snack's scream brings down half the complex on us."

"Good point," he said, and gave me one last shove that sent me skittering across the room. By the time Claudia had helped me to my feet, Angel and Spike had disappeared.

We ran over to where Stacey lay, crumpled on the floor, and I checked her pulse (all us baby-sitters have First Aid certification). It was weak, but she was alive. I wanted to stay with her, but I knew I didn't have time. Angel and Spike were on the loose.

I left Claudia feeding Stacey some of her emergency Twizzlers while I went off to find help. The corridors were still deserted, but that made sense now. Everyone must have evacuated when they found out Angel and Spike had gone rogue. If you had told me two days ago that I alone would have to stand against two super-strong evil vampires I would have been totally excited, but now that it was actually happening, I had to admit that I was more than a bit scared.

Following Spike and Angel turned out to be really easy, because one of them had stepped in Stacey's blood and was tracking it all over the building. They had had quite a head start though, so even though I could follow them, I couldn't see them. Finally, though, after what seemed like an hour, I heard a commotion up ahead.

I turned a corner and found myself in front of the daycare center. Spike and Angel were embroiled in a furious fight with several girls. One of them turned around so I could see her face, and I gasped. It was Jasmina! The Super Slayers Club was on the job!

I ran up to join them, and Kerry tossed me a stake, whispering "We're guarding the daycare center – it has its own defenses so they shouldn't be able to get in, but just in case . . ."

I nodded and raised my stake, looking for opportunity. I got it when Michelle, locked in a tight struggle with Angel, maneuvered so his back was to mine. I aimed and released.

My stake arced through the air, but just when it was about to land, a small figure jumped in the air and intercepted it. She was dressed all in black, and I didn't recognize her at first. Then I noticed her long, pale blonde hair and I gasped.

It was Dawn. She saw me and glared. "You're not killing him after all the work we did to detox him!" she shouted.

"Good little girl," said a pretty woman in a long dress, who had appeared with Dawn, "the little Slayer is a danger to our plans. Take her out!" The woman spun around and punched Dierdre, who had been sneaking up behind her.

Dawn smiled, and jumped at me. Was Dawn a Slayer too? She grabbed my shoulder harshly and my Slayer senses tingled. There were evil forces at work here. But I didn't have time to figure it out right now.

I shoved at her, knocking her down and then falling on top of her myself. We rolled on the ground, neither of us getting an advantage.

Then the hallway was filled with a bright light. Mesmerized, we all stopped for just a moment, long enough for me to see Jessi standing at the end of the hall holding a glowing orb in each time and reciting a spell in some language I had never heard. Mary Anne stood beside her, brandishing an ancient looking scroll.

I got my wits together before Dawn did and knocked her head against the wall, just hard enough to knock her out. She crumpled to the floor, unconscious. At the same time, Dierdre managed to shove the mysterious woman into a wall, and she too fell motionless.

Glancing around me, I realized that everyone had stopped fighting. Spike and Angel were on the floor, writhing in pain, and Jessi was standing over them smiling. "Their souls have been restored," she told us, "they won't hurt anybody now."

I hugged her. "Jessi, I'm so sorry. I never had any right to talk to you the way I did, and I've felt horrible about it for days!"

She grinned. "No problem! I probably deserved it. Besides, I'm apprenticed to Willow now. Think you could use a witch to help you out?"

I took her hand, and led her over to the Super Slayer girls. They hugged her, too, and I knew that I'd never have to choose between my two sets of friends again.

Jasmina might be my Slayer-best-friend, but Jessi would always be my _best-_best friend.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud gasp. It was Angel, still lying on the floor. "Stacey! I think she's. . ."

"She's fine!" Jessi said. "Willow found her and sent a healing witch to your apartment."

"Thank God," he said, shuddering. Just then, Stacey entered in the hallway, still very pale and leaning on Claudia for support.

"It's okay, Angel," she told him, "I know it wasn't your fault. But. . ." she hesitated, "I don't know quite how to say this, but I think we should see other people."

"Umm, yeah, sure," Angel said, looking confused. Anything else he might have said was cut off.

The woman who Dierdre had knocked out had suddenly jumped to her feet and grabbed Dawn's body, which was lying only a few feet away. She morphed into vamp face, and held Dawn's neck against her fangs.

"Oi, Spike . . . Angelus . . .they took you from me again," she said, in a voice that made my skin crawl, "but unless you want this girl to die, you'll let me go."

"What did you do to her, anyway, Dru?" Spike asked. She only giggled in reply, and started to edge towards the exit.

When she was almost to the end of the hall, the door of the daycare center opened, and Kristy appeared. "Oh, there you all are! Good, I was hoping to find you!" She noticed Drusilla about to turn the corner, and shouted "Hey, I'm going to need her!"

Before anyone had time to blink, she had pulled the pencil from behind her ear and thrown it straight into Drusilla's heart. A moment later, Dawn was lying on the floor in a pile of dust. She opened her eyes and looked around, confused.

Kristy, meanwhile, glanced at her checklist. "Are you ready to listen now?" she barked. "Good. Slayerfest 2005 is this weekend and I have jobs for you all. Thanks for bringing all the extra girls, Mallory! They'll be so helpful!"

The BSC, the Super Slayers Club, and both vampires stood there stunned, as Kristy gave us each an assignment sheet.


	16. Mallory's Epilogue

Kristy's Slayerfest 2005 went off like a dream. All the parents came, and she and Illyria choreographed a whole program for them to watch. Claudia even made papier mache demons for the kids to slay, and guess what? She filled them with candy! When the demons broke open, the sweets rained down over the whole room!

Afterwards, Kristy organized a carnival with classic carnival games like "Bobbing for Severed Heads" and "Hurtle the Stake into the Vampire." The only thing that didn't work out was the "Blood Sugaring" (it's like maple sugaring, but with red food coloring) – the kettles ended up boiling over into a big, sticky mess. But even that had a silver lining. Claudia _loved _it!

The Super Slayers Club helped with the whole thing, and it was great seeing everyone get along. Claudia and Chan Juan bonded over blood colored maple sugar, Michelle and Mary Anne were too nervous to talk to each other, but once they did they got along great, and Kerry was thrilled to help Kristy and Illyria with the choreography. And guess what? Jessi and Jasmina had _tons_ in common – they were both black!

The only person who didn't seem to be having any fun was Dawn. After Drusilla was killed she went back to her normal self (Willow and Jessi said she had been mesmerized), but I could tell she felt totally bad about almost killing me, even though I told her a zillion times not to worry about it. She was so depressed she barely even mentioned how bad maple sugar would be for everyone's teeth!

On the day of the Slayerfest, Kristy ordered me to run back to the daycare center for extra Nerf crossbows, and I took off down the corridor at a jog (she had been awfully quick with the pencil lately).

The door was open and I heard voices inside. I moved close enough to hear, and then froze. It was Dawn:

"I didn't mean to hurt the artifacts of ancient and noble cultures!" she said, with a sob in her voice, "But when Drusilla explained it, it all seemed okay!"

She must be talking about the museum thefts. Angel's voice answered her. "Drusilla is good at that. It's not your fault. Actually, I feel pretty bad about letting you storm out of my apartment by yourself, that morning."

Dawn sniffed. "Well, you probably should have mentioned you were a vampire."

I hid behind the door as they both emerged. When I got back to the carnival with the crossbows, Dawn was trying to convince Claudia to switch the chocolate demons for carob ones.

Everything was back to normal.

That night, after all the celebrations had finished I had a dream. It was nighttime and I was at Stoneybrook Elementary School. At first, everything was peaceful. But then I heard a rumbling in the ground. The asphalt began to crack all around me, and I felt something rising from the ground.

That's all I remembered, but when I woke up the next morning, I knew that it had been a prophetic Slayer dream. A dark power was rising in Stoneybrook.

That's why, when the BSC went home, I went with them. Everyone was super-busy preparing to leave. Kristy stayed up late into the night learning all of Illyria's secrets, and she was already planning to create a Stoneybrook Junior Slayer Squad. (I had to admit, I wasn't crazy about the idea of Claire and Vanessa with loaded weapons). 

Claudia had worked out with Clem a way to continue her Demon Designs business from back home, although Giles had made her promise to background check all her customers. She agreed immediately; she was feeling pretty bad about making an evil necklace.

At the Slayerfest, Stacey had met a young warlock-in-training who she clicked with immediately. Before she left, he kissed her on the cheek and promised to write! Isn't that romantic? But she was already planning to come back to visit Angel. She thought they might be much more suitable together in three years when she was 16.

Mary Anne and Jessi were working the hardest, packing up every duplicate magic and demon book they could get their hands on, plus tons of magical supplies. They were even talking about holding a Stoneybrook Slayers and Watchers Academy Day Camp next summer!

As for me, I took a chest of weapons with me, but I knew that my most important weapons were my friends.

Together, we could handle anything.


End file.
